balcony sleep

So many of my posts lately been including some aspect of my sleep. Well, then, this one goes no different. Its weird that the most talk-worthy moments in my urban living are when I'm just a motionless bag, an example of mere respiratory processes, of hibernation, of out-of-consciousness existence. But sleep does become a quest, at times, like yesterday when I had to manage a midnight basecamp shift to my balcony, owing to a really long power outage that not only had me restless and fringe-perspiring in the bed, but got worse when even the inverter backup turned cold after some hours.

Sleep doesn't come as innocently as we supposed - it needs a suitable culture (visual, aural, sensory), one that might even reflect on our distinction in the society - cant-do-withouts that we represent. Social status is all about the cant-do-withouts; but these c-d-ws of sleep are different, in that they aren't security cushions, they are the pleasure devices. The act of sleep (and everything that goes into it) is not your car/scooter/jet. So, to continue on the master branch here, my pleasure devices in place for a good sleep were compromised partway into the night - 02:12 to be more precise. As it was, I'd slept after a continuous run of 2 1/2 movies - Four Lions (Four Lions [2010]DVDRip[Xvid]AC3 5.1[Eng]BlueLady.avi), The Squid and the Whale (The.Squid.and.the.Whale.2005.DVDRip.XviD.AR.avi), and The Social Network (The Social Network {2010} DVDRIP. Jaybob.avi).

Distinctly remember leaving off the last one - in an elated state of ecstasy on realizing the pwnage on this second viewing - where the Winklevoss' lawyer explains that (The)Facebook had made Mark "the biggest thing on a campus that included nineteen Nobel Laureates, fifteen Pulitzer Prize winners, two future Olympians, and a movie star."
Mark's laywer then asks, elbowing him (Mark), "Who was the movie star?" and the response is, "Does it matter?"

While I did have the unfinished movie business, I decided to rather focus on touching REM pinnacle of sleep. Ich opened the doors to step out into the balcony in annoyance, met with the surprisingly cool air, and decided to work on some arrangement. My blue Yoga mat (4 yrs and still not seen any Yoga) was out and unfurled on the balcony floor, a pillow and sheet in place, my select gear - mosquito repellant cream, Quechua headlamp, mobile phone - relocated on the plastic chair that was also relocated to the balcony.
Staring at the stars through the swaying leaves of the crimson-flowered Mimosa tree that hunches into my balcony, picking the hum of the drifting mosquitoes that I hoped would be deterred by the repellant cream, and unwillingly listening into my neighbor's conversations of the night - which I can safely assume were of the flirtatious types - I drifted into my blank, mute world of sleep.

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