Awoken

I shoot up straight. Still in bed, I suppose. My eyes carefully scan the room around me, but it’s dark, there’s nothing here. My thoughts are still haunted with this feeling, these ideas—dripping over my consciousness, infecting my body and brains.
I don’t wanna think about tomorrow, not about the work that needs doing. I don’t wanna think about the tasks at hand or the “todo” list, setting new record lengths each and every day—but still I do.

My body is in a perfect environment. My peaceful bed serves so many pleasant memories of safety and comfort. Yet as my awoken mind sits restless in a sleepless body, its systems are pumping and raging. My heart pounds earthquakes through my chest and limbs. My head cheerfully echoes these observations. And all I can think about is the day to come.

My eyes shoot over to the nightstand. A lone clock displays either 3:30 or 2:30 AM—without my glasses I can be so blind. I need to get my mind off the matter, get my body at peace again, back in some tranquil state of rest—for rest is what I desperately need right now.
I reach for my earbuds. A messy wire, hanging loosely off a dusty plank—yet another task to add to the list: cleaning the bedroom. Within seconds, I am once again looking at an unlocked screen. Though tempted with the thought of scrolling for dopamine, an inch of my brain pulls back. I need some sleep.

And while carefully navigating my way towards the music player, the thoughts once again slip into my head. One at a time, but never ending:
“What if you don’t make a good impression”, “They will probably not like you”, “If only you’re able to get up in time”, “Did you set an alarm?”
I quickly cycle tabs on my phone.
Yes, I did set an alarm. Of course I did.

But as the soothing tunes of my “Sleeping” playlist finally hit my ears, the screams of restlessness fade to nothing but blurs. I can focus on the music, resting my head while worrying not about tomorrow.
Because whatever will happen, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
The thought echoes through my head, driving out the voices of pain and panic. My eyes gently shut close again as all my body and mind have only one thing to think of—the music. The instrumentation, melodies, every voice and tune that flows effortlessly into one another. I picture the band playing, the woman singing. I picture it right in front of me, as I simply doze off.
And back to sunsets I go, back to careless beaches paired with empty thoughts. I venture into the unknown. But what’s important is that the music is there to guide me, and as long as I’m asleep, there’s nothing to haunt my warming views.