Insomnia

Sleepless.
Lost between the midnight and the dawn, walking the dark paths of these small hours, Jonathan felt uneasy, restless and weary. It was late, very late, but he simply couldn't find in him the resolution to let sleep engulf him. He should be asleep, he knew very well. But he couldn't, and the reason for that he didn't know. Or did he?
Something was amiss and he failed to grasp the wholeness of it. Something prevented him to fall asleep. Jonathan felt awkard walking from room to room in is old cottage, almost as if what he was missing, and searching, would be in the next room, fleeing in front of him, always one step ahead.
Obviously this wasn't a solution, walking around like a ghostly figure in the dead hours of the night. But, to put it simple, Jonathan couldn't imagine a better thing to do. He felt a weird surge of power and energy inside him, but somehow he couldn't find a way to channel it to something useful. He tried simple things, like watching TV or reading, but the basic concentration failed him. His restlessness fought it.
Insomnia had been a companion for the past months. Jonathan was used to her and sometimes he even welcomed her for the extra time he felt he needed to live a bit more. She provided. But he hadn't experienced insomnia like this before. This was insomnia with a capital "I". Yes, a capital "I" indeed.
Unaccostumed as he was with the night living, he felt lost with all the amount of extra time in his hands now. It was too much as it was, and now it broke new boundaries, to boldly go where Jonathan had never gone before.
And, most of all he felt he couldn't cope with all the thoughts, plans and actions that simply sprung to his mind at an astonishing speed. Everything is different at night. Good ideas may seem bad, and bad may sound good.
He would do this, do that, say this, say that, act like this, act like that, or he wouldn't act at all. In the big picture it seemed as this weird brainstorm would resolve all his troubles ant issues. But Jonathan knew better of course. In the morning, in the light of day, he would dismiss them all, every plan, every idea, every scheme. He will even laugh at some eventually.
He knew that, but tonight they were jumping at him from behind every corner of his mind. And he simply didn't know what to do with them.
Jonathan felt he was drawing near to something, but what exactly that something was it still remained to be seen.
Almost as if he knew he was meant for something big, but that something kept eluding him, in a annoying and taunting fashion.
Like the sting of the spider fish in that beach many years ago, when he was a simple toddler. It had hurt like hell, but he simply bore with it; he endeavoured and thrived through the pain not for spite or shame, but simply because he didn't know what else to do.
It healed eventually, the poison eliminated from his blood. Jonathan could only hope to be healed now as well...to remove this mysteryous poison from his system.
Still lost between the midnight and the dawn, walking the dark paths of the neverending small hours, Jonathan remained uneasy, restless and weary. It was late, very late, but he still couldn't find in him the resolution to let sleep engulf him. He should already be asleep, he knew too damn well. But he couldn't, and the reason for that he didn't know. Or did he?

Gunther Dünn