There's always this problem with resuming things. Its like memories. The thing with memories is that over time they assume a larger dimension and a grander stage than they ever had. So coming back is always tinged with fear and uncertainty and the nervous-shifty-eyedness thing. Its the same with resuming things left asunder, for whatever reason. Such as this space. And that, believe it or not, is my excuse. And, believe it or not, its reduced me so that I even feel the need to be excused. And this one, believe it or not, is only just an unnecessary addendum.
Enough. I shall consider the ice-breaking done.
Coming now to important-er things. I have discovered, finally, the secret to an instant, healthy, and satisfying sleep. Or a nap. Either way. Its not like I'm even springing upon you a test idea, or some experimental thing. I've been doing it upon myself, for the benefit of science, for the past few weeks. I got the idea in class, obviously. I was asleep, obviously. And its a lark. Allow me to illustrate in vivider detail, for you thirsting-for-knowledge types.
Its always that the greatest discoveries happen out of sheer accident. I was in class, as I said, sleeping obviously. And I was woken from my deep slumber all of a sudden, because the prof-monster had crept too close to my spot, and would have pounced in another moment, baring saliva-oozing, sharp-edged teeth, forked tongue and claws and talons from his limbs. And in those initial few moments of semi-consciousness, when we are neither asleep nor awake, I thought. I thought about how quickly and how instantly I could fall asleep in class, no matter that I'd gotten my good 8 the previous night. I thought about how I had to but close my eyes to gain immediate access to my land of dreams, all set up with a vivid, elaborate dream involving whatnots and thingamajigs from across the world. I thought about my happiness and satisfaction upon waking up, and the feeling of joy and contentment I could get from having done nothing at all.
And thats how I've come upon it. The secret to a beautiful, satisfying sleep. It lies in classrooms, over the drone of a professor pouring forth on all-encompassing subjects like crank-chains, iron-carbon phases, and mollier diagrams. It resides in sitting on an uncomfortable bench with your head on the desk, scribbled upon with the wisdom of the ages, as attained by half-conscious, frustrated students over the years. I try to recreate it in my room at nights. I sit on the bed, with my head on the desk beside me. I keep open a book of thermodynamics, or metallurgy, or fourier expansions, lest I find the going tough. I think of my lectures, and I picturise the man before me, standing with paunch preceding, and oiled wisps of hair, and that accented execution of the English language. I put my peers beside me, glazed looks and dazed expressions on their faces, to complete the family.
It takes me perhaps 10 seconds to fall into a deep sleep. I dream of a beautiful Neverland. You should try it sometime.