It’s pouring outside and I am running empty. 2 hours of sleep at most and it is so ANNOYING. I prepped for sleep and waited for it to come. Calling, No answer, I’m not unfamiliar. There might as well not even be a single ticking clock hand, time was frozen. I’m in this sea of sheets with no hope of surrender. So, I decided to attempt to astral project. If I can’t fall asleep mentally, I might as well do something. So I thought. Alright, so I’m laying there doing my best to relax my body. I sank into the floor. Couldn’t lift my hands to scratch some god awful itch on my chin. My skin started to vibrate. It was magic. I could feel myself lift up and out of my cotton ocean. THEN, my heart started to go crazy and I lost the grip of whatever hand was pulling me away.
Regroup, try again. This time around, the same thing happened but not as intense. Ended with the same result… I’m awake and can’t go back to sleep. So, I try again and then what started to actually take place was my mind was in its own fucking world. PAY ATTENTION! I blame the media for enforcing this idea and expectation of what was to come. I pictured myself walking around my apartment, passing through walls. Flying around NYC. This idea, what I was waiting for, forged the anchor that kept me still in this 1000 thread count sea.
I’m glad this topic was prompted to me. Astral. The experience I had today applies to a multitude of things that are omnipresent in my life. I go to start something with an outcome in mind, usually pertains to the Arts. It’s a FUCKING setback. 100%. Change never comes easy enough. Always work to do somewhere. So here I am with 3 hours of sleep and a long day ahead of me with this posted note on my forehead. Expect the unexpected.
via Daily Prompt: Astral