Not being able to sleep sucks, period.

Posted by ButchInc on

I mean, what’s this all about? You end up lying in bed, thinking and worrying about stuff that doesn’t even make sense, when actually you should be dreaming about other stuff that doesn’t make sense – but at least the dream-stuff doesn’t have to.

It all starts so well. You go to bed, looking forward to some good ol’ sleep. Being pretty tired, you have a smile on your face because it’s about to happen: sleep, I’m comin’ to get ya and take no prisoners. And I mean, who does not enjoy sleeping? Best thing in the world…well, kind of. So, as I said, you have a good start falling asleep real quick. But as the race with your alarm continues, you get into trouble, all of a sudden you wake up and before you are even able to realize, you’re done. No more dreaming for you tonight, fella. You still try to somehow get into dreamworld again, but sometimes second access is simply denied. Changing spots in bed doesn’t help and after some time of lying there you just accept your fate of a short night with only few hours of rest. Now knowing that it will be a long day and not having gotten enough sleep to make it through happily sucks even more. But sometimes one just has to deal with it. At least there is something you can look forward to for the next night: going to bed and getting some sleep. Or will you?

Home is…

Posted by ButchInc on

 

…a connection between personal feelings and the place I am at. You can feel home, you can be home, and you can also feel and be home. At least my personal definition of “home” contains both aspects. If yours is different, just let me know. Home is a place where I can be myself and also feel like that is the place I belong.

I call a place “my home” where I feel safe. I can leave the house and go out on the streets whenever I want with whoever I want. I know where to meet people, I know where to buy groceries and I know where to grab a cup of coffee or eat a good pizza.

But nevertheless “home” is more than just a city, a town or a place you know by heart.

“Home” is difficult to describe. When one feels home, he knows it. At home I have that heartwarming feeling that tells me that this is exactly the place to be and makes every other place seem unimportant at that particular moment. It also can be a get-together with some friends where I have a drink and a talk about serious topics, but where I am also able to tell a joke and have fun.

That good feeling can’t be taken away by anyone. It doesn’t always have to be big cities or large events that make life so special, but it’s the small moments that I share and enjoy with other people that define the place I call home. It’s a place I like to be at with all its details, with all its good sides and bad sides, where I can have fun in good times, and also find something to cheer me up in bad times and feel wanted.

I believe that everybody has such a place in his life where he knows he belongs. It doesn’t have to be the town one grew up in that is called home. It can also be a team or a club where one feels this safety that makes him want to be a part of it, or maybe some good friends that make one feel home everywhere when they are around. At home, everything is perfect just as it is.