If I really wanted and needed and had to sleep, then how come I couldn’t? it wasn’t as simple as that. I could not just close my eyes and wish for a sudden rush of lactic acid all through my veins to induce my sleep. I couldn’t just breathe in a specific pattern to decrease my heart rate and be swept away from this bitter world of no dreams. The calming music even was not all that was needed to help me go away.
A tall glass of frothy milk worked as a shot of espresso would have worked. The breath mint after, was the hugest mistake. That’s a kind of understatement really, for it was the gadget game playing which was the ultimate, definite no!
This NAMIA, this possessive, mythological god had left the dusty pages of the old leather-bounds and flew away to my room, willing to stay for now. And he would take control of everything, the darkness, the loneliness, the cold. As if he had sucked all the fun, the joy, the love out of my room, if only for a second; For this lengthy, lingering moment.
Namia didn’t scare me anymore; but his presence was less than pleasant no doubt. He was not welcome, he knew it very well. Dammit even Namia had lost all hope. Even the most terrorizing creature had given up when he had come to face me. And Namia is simply invincible let’s not forget.
Then, out of pity I decided to keep him company. I said:
“Namia, man. Come let’s chill for a while. Care for a drink? Let’s hang out and chit chat for a while bro.”
Mere shock in his eyes, he opened his pout-like mouth and blurted:
“who are you?”
I was like:
And then Namia, the evil god of death and hell and anything hellish smiled in ridicule. It wasn’t one of those evil plot laughters we see in horror flicks; it was simply a grunt of pity and amusement, for this creature he was facing, for the very first time in his eternal immortal life. Namia was in for a BIG surprise and tons of entertainment.
That night, Namia realized he is capable of loving, a natural at romance this beast; Was amazing really.
He was capable of creating art and with some time perhaps even good literature; Although I can’t ever imagine him in civilian clothing. His fur suits him best, although the hooves creep you out any day!
Horns, kinda cool actually.
Namia became my pal, just like that. It was a good thing I hadn’t have many imaginary friends as a child though, or else I would’ve though he was one as well. But he was not, I saw him, talked to him, in flesh and fur.
This titillating pain, this obsession did not leave though, even after my encounter with Namia. It’s here to stay. I’m starting to think this is life:
Something that lingers… it does pass but it lingers too. Or something of it remains. It’s always felt, at times a bit sharper, more intense. At times like now…
And let me tell you, there’s not a DAMN thing you can do about it, this is one of those moments in life that reminds you, there are times, you are ABOSLUTELY powerless… times when something MUCH STRONGER, MUCH BIGGER takes charge.
And you simply have to…
“Grin and bear it?”
Now, that’s my boy!