Reading about wars and prisons set during the early 20th century made me think about a lot of uncomfortable lives and easy-to-change fates. I was trying to put myself in the shoes of the characters and though they were fictitiously written, they had to be based on real accounts and it overwhelmed me to be imagining and dwelling during all those days and years and decades...
I concluded, sleep must have been a recreation to those novices and veterans alike. Mentioned in one of the stories I still have to finish if I had the perseverance to do so. But seriously I was considering it to be the case that sleep is a recreation. Even for me who is peacefully sitting on my chair as I type this.
Really, I’ve had no decent sleep in a long time. I’ve had when I accepted that 6 hours of regularly interrupted sleep is already a luxury. But then, there are more luxuries than that—an eight to 10 hours of sleep which would have to be between 8 pm to about 6 am. Not interrupted, with whines or hands of babies on the breast, or of the daddy.
I could only imagine exhausted men trying their luck with sleep in between training hours. Only up to that. I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of refugees or falsely or rightly charged criminals just because they needed something to eat. Stealing or cheating their way because there is no other way. Unless you could hold your hunger for days or months. Compassion is rare sometimes, or abundant at other times. You aren’t sure whether your luck is good or not. Even up to these days, I believe others are comparable to refugees. And I wonder if I should be thankful that I am here safely on my desk. But I believe that is not a matter of consideration. It should be left in the silence not to think or speak about it.
If you are following me, and I wish you aren’t on to another article to read already, I am beginning to feel happy that I could eat three times a day with snacks and beverage in between meals. What of my problems now than the desire of those people to have the war ended or the prison to be away from their lives. The author was kind enough to let me on, as a reader, on heroic comebacks and glorious aftermaths. But it’s been hard to fathom the in-betweens of the stories. They were just stories but somehow it brought emotions into play.
And then again, there are us reading over the lives of those people. In our comfortable beds, in our living room, somewhere near the luxury of a toast and tea or coffee or juice. But it remains for me that sleep was a recreation. Even for my case now. How much more for them before?
But mind you, there are things, which made me envy those characters in the stories. But those must have to be left inside my head lest it could anger some readers. So you’d know life before weren’t pure ‘I wish war had ended.’
After this long list of ebooks get tried on, by yours truly of course, even just the first few pages, I will be moving on to other authors. I’ve been lagging behind my wish. Why can’t one take her time? Who knows? We’ll never know… After all, I wanted some sort of comparison. And I’m not sure what sort of comparison that is. If I will be clearer then I will write about it here.
I still had to admit, reality is never close stories told or written. But I also had to thank authors for their enthusiasm to write. If not, I’d not be here. Having been inspired by people who write or wrote. I would still not have realized that sleep is indeed a recreation. What more would someone want? Given those situations and circumstances. Even continuing that into deeper slumber unto the beyond would be best…
The best part of reading is when you arrive at the scene where the protagonist was already well-bathed and was to sleep. For a moment you rest with the character and you’ll be renewed to go on along with his or her adventure. If not, survival.
I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been puzzled by what I was saying. But I typed what came to my mind and explaining it in better terms is just beyond me at the moment. Forgive me, over and over.
