A Stream Of Consciousness

A Stream Of Consciousness

I reach over my nightstand to turn off my light. I press the button, hear a click, and my room goes dark. The only thing that I can see is the faint moonlight trying to make its way through the blinds. Rolling over to my side, I lay my head on my fluffy pillow. The warmth from my comforter makes me feel cozy and safe. Safe, until I start to think. The hardest part about going to sleep is what I think about before I actually drift off. My mind moves from thought to thought in what seems like the speed of light. I probably have whole conversations with myself in only about ten seconds. Letting out a big sigh, I close my eyes. Sometimes, before I go to bed, I make up scenarios. 

For instance, what if I was a young woman who was traveling the world? I think I would want to go to Italy first, and then at some point, I would like to make my way to Bali, or maybe even Jamaica. I could be a famous journalist. You know, the types of journalists that break a huge story and then have an Oscar winning movie made about them. But, I think tonight, I am going to be a famous actress, no wait, singer. That would be fun. I would look out into the crowd at Madison Square Garden and see thousands of people singing along to my songs. I would be wearing a sparkling outfit with tassels on the end. I would hear my voice echoing from the speakers all throughout the stadium. After the show, I would leave the stage feeling like I’m on top of the world. I would go backstage and change, maybe hang out? I don’t really know what singers do after a show. Do they go home? Do they do drugs? Let’s hope not. I’m not going to become a cliche, the drug addicted musician, who winds up dying alone. 

I don’t want to die. I mean we all die, but I don’t want to die yet. I find it crazy how out of all the atoms in the entire universe, I am me. I’m in my body and thinking these thoughts. And then, one day, I’m going to die. Just like that, I won’t be alive anymore. Everything that I know will be gone. I will never take a breath again. Jesus Christ I’m depressing. I hate thinking about death when I’m trying to fall asleep. I always spiral down into depressing thoughts. I think my greatest fear is death. I know that dying is a very general fear. I mean, you could die of cancer, or fall off a building. Most people are afraid of the dark or spiders, but spiders aren’t going to take away my existence. A plane crash might, or a robber holding a gun to my head, but those both could result in death. So really, people who are afraid of plane crashes and guns are just afraid of death. 

I’m going to stop thinking about dying. I should think about a blue sky or a white sheet of paper to clear my mind, or go back to my scenario about being a famous singer. Ok, what would I do the next day? I think I would wake up in my fancy hotel room and then go for a quick bite. After my breakfast, I might do some shopping. I don’t have to worry about money, considering I just played at Madison Square Garden last night. Later, in the afternoon, I would go hang out with my boyfriend who is a heartthrob of the younger generation. I don’t know who he would be, because I am living in a fake world. The thing about making up scenarios is that I can do anything I want, but there are a lot of blanks that need to be filled in. 

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Maybe I should try and count sheep, but usually, I give up. After counting to about 47, I’m bored. Sitting up in my bed, I grab my glass of water to take a few sips. I love the taste of water. Does water even have a taste? I don’t think it does. I guess what I mean, is that I love the feeling of water. Sometimes, if it’s really cold and you drink it really fast, you can feel the water moving down through your body. Laying back down, I decide to count sheep again. Then I hear a knock on my door. “It’s time to get up,” my dad yells. My eyes flutter open to see the sunlight pouring in through my blinds.