On Sleep, the elusive mistress

Being awake and alert is a gift. Being able to sleep, more so. Irony dictates that you never actually savour something as much as it deserves until you end up losing it. Ergo, sleeping, today, is a lost art. Its importance, however, cannot be overstated. I am well aware that I’m merely rambling in my sleep deprived state. The idea is to probably bore myself to sleep. They say it is a sign of intelligence to have an overactive mind that finds it difficult to rest, let go of thoughts and switch off from the world. I would happily barter the last iota of my intelligence, however large or miniscule, for a good night’s sleep. I await such a sweet deal.


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