Bed in The Things I Write When My Mind Won't Sleep

The world seems to shift on its very axis when you’re in bed. In the bright midday sun when all problems seem so small and insignificant compared to what they were mere seconds ago. Or int he absolute vortex of night when all that you hope for is oblivion but instead cannot seem to quiet the incessant noise inside of your brain. Lying in bed is the start of so many lives in those few sweet moments of child birth, before all hell breaks loose. lying in bed also signifies the end, or an era, or a family, or a lifetime. Looking around in rapture at the memories that seem to permeate every surface and pore around you. Or staring at the desolate bare walls and soundless spaces that seemed so full of joy in the past that seems to grow more distant with every slowing breath. A bed can be a sanctuary for the misunderstood or a prison for the insomniac. Bed can enrage a toddler int he same way it seems to calm an overworked college student. The bare bones of a home cannot be complete without a bed. Whether spawning nightmares or awe inspiring dreams and fantasies. bed is a place that recognizes no differences. Where everyone is the same. A place for an impatient elder or a teen typing ramblings into her laptop at two o clock in the morning. No matter what bed means to you, or the people around you. There is one thing I can really say about it. Thank God for beds.