forward to the edge

OLD GROWS THE NIGHT that I am trying to kill, but keeps on slipping away from my grasp like a fearful foe. The bottomless silence is an irony of what flourishes inside me—doubtful thoughts, masked questions, and meaningless noises; almost anything that speaks of unrest and of truths barren of peace.

I stand awake at the edge of the velvet black, trying to see beyond the lack of light, groping, silently screaming my prayers into hovering invisible dusts. The eerie calm teased my senses of every sound, of every moving shadow, of every sensation perceived by my brain that tells me that I need to sleep. But how can I? I can no longer blame the large doses of caffeine that runs through me. If I didn’t know better, I would think it’s caffeine that really lulls me to sleep. How I wish it didn’t fail me tonight. I just want to go into a deep slumber and drown myself with sweet dreams and nightmares. I do not know the difference between them anymore. It doesn’t really matter because in the end, when I wake up, they’re still dreams—mere figments of fantasy and imagination formed by a twisted mind. And because no matter how good or bad they are; I will still wake up to find myself dreaming. This is the reality I’m trying to endure.

The clock continues to sing its usual tick-tock song—a loop of sounds playing in the most boring beat. Every move of an arm across its face is a push closer to the edge of insanity. The edge is somewhere I don’t want to find myself standing but the cruelty of the night brings out old haunting ghosts, terrifying but real, each driving me an inch closer towards a unyielding darkness. I lay here completely naked to every stimulus, eyes wide shut, trying to taste the void into which I am succumbing myself.

A personal struggle is once again amplified; raging, like water and oil in a constant brawl. The heart fights for happiness while the mind stands firm for what it thinks is just. My beliefs are put to test but the bewildering emotion that challenges these beliefs remains as strong. No side is ready to give up. Each side is waiting for the other to waver. And this war is destroying me, tearing me apart from both ends. A decision on to which side I should kindle is inescapable. The torments of indecision, fear, guilt, and loneliness have proven themselves stronger than I am and every way out seemed closed shut. Deciding to which path I should wade is like barging against locked doors. The thought of escape though cowardly, is very seductive. This is a silly thought of course. How can a person escape himself? I am trapped.

The arms continue to move clock-wise as the earth turns westward. Sunlight will soon pour from the east and the night will burn into day. Shadows will retreat against the twilight but the dawn will never heal the lasting scars forged in the dark. My heart longs for the warm light of a new day, but time crawls when you want it to fly. I only need to suffer a few more hours before sunrise. I hope it comes soon before I run out of solid ground and fall completely. I’m nearing the tipping point. The edge is close… very close…