Sleep patterns and the Heath.

My sleep patterns have momentarily gone to pieces due to my big plan of getting myself largely straightened out and healthy in time for solstice. There’s a solar eclipse on the 21st and then we’re in the dog days. Things are already bonkers so I’m not gonna let myself coast through the heart of the year without an attempt to align myself with myself and the things around me. Just under two weeks to get myself to ceremonial mind and body state.

Booze, my old demon. That’ll be on the back burner for a while as I try and teach my poor broken liver that it doesn’t have to be constantly pustulating in an attempt to keep up with the Peter-Pan complex of its host, and I try to teach my brain to do things normally rather than respond to constantly shifting chemical stimuli. The first thing that happens when I start to detox is that sleep goes blooey and I get ragey.

I stayed up all night last night. Sleep just wasn’t available. At 8.30am, just as I decided there was no point trying and put my clothes back on, sleep suddenly became the only thing I was capable of, and I rolled fitfully through vivid dreams into half noon. Then a particularly unusual and hungry dream propelled me up and out, down to South End Green, wide awake again and hoping somehow that a shop would be available without queue for a purchase of the bread I had been so joyfully eating in the dream. No such luck though. All the dream-bread shops required patience and standing still. Neither of those resources were available. The bottom of Hampstead Heath is even busier than Battersea Park at lunchtime, and all the shops had queues so long that I weighed up my desire for dreambread and against my need for non stop movement and the bread was wanting.

I went for a brisk walk on the breadless heath instead, looking and listening to the conversations and the humanity, and enjoying the stoopid dogs.

The entrance was chocka but as I walked up the hill people started to peel off exponentially. There were moments as I strolled up that I could’ve tried to pretend to myself that I wasn’t completely surrounded by people.

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It was gloomy compared to how it has been. But if today’s walk is the shape of things to come then I’ve definitely landed in the right place up here. Trees and moss and space and air, and panoramic views of my metropolis from the top of one of the only proper hills. I roved around for ages. I’m sure I could’ve come up with all sorts of practical things to do, but walking was today’s jam. Fuck knows how I’ll make money. I’m strangely peaceful. Life finds a way.

Now it’s gone 2am and I’m still totally discombobulated and have no idea where the day starts and ends, let alone whereabouts it is in the week and which deity it’s named after. I think we’ve just had the moon day. This time last night I was filled with strange anger but today I’m just awake and calm and hoping that I can remember how to stop myself from being awake without the aid of chemicals.

First up, ditch the screen. Night!

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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