What if the Sun, capsized and sinking into the faraway horizon, was the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes and fell to sleep?
Through the night you might wake up once or twice; startled by the sound of a bird flying overhead, or the wind wrapping its fingers around the rocks you’ve sheltered by. When your eyes open, in that half-asleep dreamy state, you remember that you’re sleeping outdoors. The sky – in great folds of the deepest blue you’ve ever seen – is a mass of pinhole stars, littering the darkness.
The line between dreams and reality becomes blurred, when you sleep outside.
Time can feel like a black hole, greedily eating up your precious days, months and years, leaving you reeling – trying to figure out, just like every paycheck, where the hell it’s gone.
If I told you that (in my experience) there are places where time works differently, I appreciate you’d have to take my word for it – and that might take some believing. Time is the constant we measure our lives by after all, so to be told that it isn’t always the same, depending on where you are, might seem a bit ridiculous…
A sleepless night starts with a brain that buzzes with a thousand thoughts bouncing around your skull, electrified by a restlessness that goes right down to your stomach, and out through your veins to every corner of your body.
Maybe one thought has gripped you, and your tired mind chips away at it like a lonely miner, helplessly trying to extract all the world’s gold on his own. Or maybe it’s hundreds of thoughts clashing, desperately warring with each other, and nothing you do can quieten those endless worries.
Wake up, check your emails, trawl Facebook, bind yourself up with the endlessly coiling loop of twitter. During the day – probably a day spent indoors – a constant stream of information is fed to you from a phone that is essentially another computer.
By the time you get home the cycle is repeated; hours given up to staying up-to-date, staying relevant in a world in which relevance has become a second-by-second sea of a billion voices, all searching to be heard, all clamoring to be a part of something.