Letter To A Lover

Dear Sleep,

How are you doing? Its been ages since we had a proper interaction. You don’t come around like you used to. Your best friends, Lazy Afternoon and After Dark Hours still do, however. I see them and anticipate your arrival. In the past you’d creep in slowly, making your presence known by inciting a yawn or enveloping me to intoxication and drowsiness. But now, I see them and wonder why you don’t come after them. They come by day after day bearing false promises of your coming; whispering sweet nothings about closing my eyes and feeling your arms around me. They are not good liars, you know. You should tell them. I hear their whispered conversations over the evening breeze as Lazy Afternoon hands over guard duties to After Dark.

There are some things I fail to understand. Why did you leave me these series of yawns that are not unlike the ones I had when we were together? Why does Lazy Afternoon come dressed in the sunniest apparel and After Hours takes over wearing the stillest of nights? Why do you send them to hang around me while you purposely ignore me? And without any just cause. We are grown ups now, Sleep. We settle our misunderstandings through dialogue and not this immature act you are putting up. Man tf up and tell me why I am being left to turn and toss most times wondering why you do not come around like you used to. Face me like the lover you are; don’t hide from me you coward.


I’m sorry. I went out of line. It’s just that with you gone, others have began courting me, and it’s hard to ignore them when I don’t have you around. Anger seems to be around me more often these days, and starting to rub off on me. Fatigue clings to me like a shadow. This seems to make Anger madder. It would be funny to me, but Depression and Sadness hover constantly close by, and with them comes that numbing cold that leaves me feeling almost nothing.


I have a few guesses as to why you’re not around anymore. I can bet it is one of two. I don’t know which one was the catalyst, but I do know A comes before P.

It is something to do with my anxiety, isn’t it? I knew it! I always told you people get tired of me and leave, and you always reassured me you weren’t like “those people”. Guess I was right in the end. I worried so much about what I will do if you stopped showing up because my guts never lie to me. I shouldn’t have welcomed you all the time. The few times I tried to stay away from you by hanging out with Internet, or going on adventures with TV, I shouldn’t have come back to apologise and try to make up for lost time 😒. Now that I think of it, I should not have tried pleasing your two shit ass friends either. I should have told them straight up that their attempts at lulling me was lame and I had better things to do than engage them. I should have played it cool and let you do all the chasing, your henchmen always assuring me that your love for me was as unique as your love for every living human and animal that walk the earth.

It is most likely the pills. Your friends cum spies must have told you about them. If you will only hear me out, I will explain; my anxiety pushed me to get them. The pharmacist didn’t ask for a doctor’s note, just told me not to take them before driving or operating heavy mechanisms. He failed to tell me that it will be a poor imitation of you. That where you and I shared colourful adventures I could easily recount, they’d leave me with grays and nothing to hold on to. What I’m trying to say was I tried replacing you before you had even gone and failed. And I’m sorry. I would be insulted too if someone tried to replace me with someone or something. Nothing can be as the real deal.

I know you have not entirely given up on us because you still visit, albeit not like before. You breeze in and out before I can register your presence and thank you for the serenity you present me with every time you visit.
Can we go back to how it used to be? You had this magical ability to take away my stress and leave me feeling happy, energised, eager to take on the world. Now you’re gone and my body feels heavier, my mind slower, my mood unstable.

What I am trying to say in essence is that I miss you. I promise to work on the hours I spend with Engineer Phone, and I’ll probably stop sneaking around with TV and probably ignore Internet more often. I understand now that even if we have agreed to be in a polyamorous relationship, I don’t have to relinquish your time to another.

I’ll be expecting your response to be delivered to me in person. You know where to find me.

I Can’t Hide The Bags Beneath My Eyes With Makeup Anymore


First things first, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. We don’t know if I gave you a curious second glance while rushing to an early morning class, wondering why you were raising your voice at the person on the other end of your phone. I may be the person sitting hunched on the computer you’re waiting to make use of, trying to wrack my brain for the right words to string along to make an interesting introduction. We may be lovers in the sheets without the love. We may never know. Let’s leave it that way. It’s for the best.

Welcome to my blog. It’s going to be messy and disorganised and as random as the thoughts racing through my head. I’ll probably just catch and hold on to the first one I can for as long as it takes me to make sense of it and make it make sense to you.


  1. This is also a project for me to see if I can recover my lost writing skill. Excuse the amateurish attempts here and there
  2. There’s going to be a lot of colourful language, hence if you’re below 18 or faint of heart, go ‘head and move along