These films of the unconscious induce my curiosity to crawl back into that darkness, that unfolding of vivid visions, of esoteric illusions. My will to wake suffocates. I know I should get out of bed yet I am seduced by this delving, already under the spell of naked gravity.
There lies something dark in this act of self-observation or, rather, a submission to my unconscious state, to my subconscious existence. What does my submission mean? My choice to hand control to my subconscious by putting my consciousness to sleep…what does this mean?
Yet another dawn of submission, relenting to euphoric, effortless sleep. To drift off and away, to sink, float, and drown in weightlessness. What lies beneath this deliberate momentum to be swallowed in sleep? Laziness or torture? Pleasure or punishment? Is it a giving up or a giving in? A release? A surcease?
Tonight, haunted by those dark hours of dawn, I am buried in restlessness where time expands its frame, becomes thick and heavy, extends its arms exponentially.
I am saturated with sleep, disturbed.
