I'm a veteran wayfarer in this land called Insomnia...

In my sojourn In this land called Insomnia,the trees have no colour and the grasses are a uniform shade of black. My fellow travellers are rats,lizards,dogs,cocks and lest i forget,the ubiquitious goats and their noisy, annoying kids. The night watchman joins me every night,but he never acknowledges my presence, nor I his. . .

In this land called Insomnia,the world is usually pitch black,except for times when i light my battered old lantern and dim it for effect{no sense wasting kerosene}.Then I can peer into the ash-yellow hued gloom of my sorroundings and hiss with dissatisfaction. . .
I often listen to the sound of my soul breathing in the dead of night, my own thoughts rattle around in my head and I ponder at my mortality. . .

When did I start this journey? I can't say precisely. Il mì a'möre used to reach out across time and space to hold my hands between the hours of 12.30 to 4.30am, and together we would laugh and play.

Time would pass very quickly,and I wouldn't notice the cold,the hard earth beneath me,the crickets,the dogs and the goats,because with the sound of A'möre's voice in my ears, my soul was warmed,I was satisfied and the yearning and restlessness in my soul was stilled. . .


Mí A'möre dosen't reach out anymore,so now,in these witching hours when the hand of the sandman is stayed, sleep is fractured and I make my restless way into the land of Insomnia,where my companions are my thoughts,

my phone,

crickets,

lizards,

rats,

goats and

dogs. . .

The cold envelopes me in its icy embrace,the watchman's gong is supernaturally loud,the earth is very hard beneath me,the night is blacker than tar, the sky is a big dark featureless blanket and day seems like a thousand light years away.

Sluggish is the feet of time in this land called Insomnia. . .I meander wearily across this lonely land,wondering when this sojourn will end and all the time looking up at the distant heavens from whence my help cometh from. . .

Alone, I walk. . .

Persevere. But, at least, evidently, you've got internet reception. Taking a walk is healthy though, but in the bush with animals of the night...I wouldn't call that very healthy in the least. Find a blanket, please, lest you turn Eskimoic.

You`ll never walk alone baby...

you just described me ,except the animals ofcourse.lovely!

brokoto: You`ll never walk alone baby...

Tinkybabe: you just described me ,except the animals ofcourse.lovely!

Thanks .

For those conversant with my Wasimi Chronicles thread, you might find some things familiar here;

The rats, goats, lizards etc.

I wrote it at the height of my loneliness and unhappiness during my service year in that rustic little agrarian roadside settlement.

As I update the Chronicles, I keep remembering things,like this little piece of proetry (prose written in poetic language) I wrote one cold night as I lay on my hard mattress, on the earthen floor, in the middle of my tortourous sojourn in the Land called Insomnia.

Even my "Ways to catch a Chicken" thread is based on entirely on my experiences in Wasimi.

Ishilove:
Thanks. . .

Even my "Ways to catch a Chicken" thread is based on entirely on my experiences in Wasimi.

ehen! We don catch you. I go talk

brokoto: ehen! We don catch you. I go talk

Lmao!!!!

Haaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

No, please don't rat on me!