Tire

There is nothing quite like the feeling of dozing yourself into a dream. Your blanket warm, wrapped firmly around you, and smell emanating it, one such that brings a yawn and a veil of safety. This blanket is a comfort and padded and a bit heavier than other blankets owned, yet soft and bearable with an overwhelming tone of drowse.

Your pillow lays holding the weight of your head and hairs contained, yet another branch of comfort and quality so charming and inviting, touch of an item precious and pure, one that functions not only to serve a purpose but to serve a picturesque view of the night and the emotions the absence of light present in the room entail. Quality above all else, perfectly turquoise-tinted sheets serving well for the mattress, a beauty, an art.

You rest, and the wrinkles and visible parts of the bed that show and prove this special piece of furniture is holding your wright come into view like ripples in the water, details that are so clear yet so hidden in the background that shine through in moments of clarity, moments of vision.

The bed is a peculiar place, and every second of attempted sleep converts itself into bits of magic weaving storylines from such wicked days into films of elegance that dance along the mind like pointers across a screen.

There are times when realization start to rock, and all one can think involve the feeling that they are truly about to fall into a sleep the day has led to for quite some time, those moments blend back into the unassuming nature of the doze.

Sleep is a pure and unconscious beauty of the human condition, each breath breathed under its spell belong to the trust of a function of body that may fail but ultimately, and hopefully, does not.

We are beings that need this kind of safety, this type of feeling, for all tired individuals of the world require a bed to lay their heads and belong to their own world, portions of each day at a time.