The Bed is Shaking

Back a few years.  Fear was still a palpable sensation.  I still had worries about things.  I still thought something out there could “get” me.  I don’t think that anymore.  But..the night terrors were real.  They say that you project out everything that you see.  I used to dread going to bed, anticipating waking up in the midst of a dead sweaty sprint down the street barefoot, heart pounding.  The instigating force already fading into the subconscious depths, physical body tremors the only signs left of its presence.  Just a stupid thing, if seen in the broad heavy lidded stare now would pale in importance just like everything else, individual things no longer fighting for attention. Maybe the apathetic indifference which now characterizes my moment is simply a protective reaction to the sheer body smacking the pavement from 100 stories up perception I once had, a protective shell moving in to bring balance to the equation.  Apathetic is even not the word.  But it is an adequate word, it is close enough.  I know now that the bed WAS shaking.  It was shaking because I was shaking.   

 

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