"in death, the bed is the very center of life"
~~~~~~Augusten Burroughs
The Bed.
To some: refuge, safety, revitalization.
To others a form of torture.
Profoundly enough, the bed is one of the most basic staples of life.
Through out life the bed holds the secrets of many things.
As a teen my bed was a haven, a haven where my girlfriends and I talked, laughed, planned and laid next to each other whispering about the day; secrets which were sworn to never leave the room. The bed was a fortress of safety and future endeavors.
Even at 19, I knew a bed was a necessity. A true sign of adulthood, regardless of how adult I felt, I was never above taking someone's used mattress as my own. Nothing a new set of used sheets wouldn't fix. In my 20's in Atlanta I had an old hospital bed, which I adored. Metal frame, rickety, and I spray painted it white myself....covering up the history carried from the old Atlanta mental ward. Now, it would be considered "Shabby Chic" but then....it was not only amazing, but so perfectly me....it fit me, and me only.
Scarves and old rosaries dangled from the metal headboard and footboard. The bed was mine. I found it , coveted it, and it brought me great nights of sleep.
As I began to date, I was always amazed how many young men did not have a bed. A mattress on the floor was often the case, and for me.... a no go. Bunk Beds? OK, at least it is off the floor, But a couch? no.
The Bed....
One needs a Bed
for fucking, learning, possibly sleeping, but mostly fucking....
A safety spot, a refuge, a personal womb.
As of date I have had many beds and bed frames, but have yet to acquire the safety my little metal bed, which was mine alone, brought me.
Sleep is not encouraged by my current bed, nor safety. I cannot figure it out.
My bed looks as if it should foster everything one needs to dream and rejuvenate the soul.
expensive sheets, heated blankets, multiple pillows, light, darkness, comforters and even up and down controls.
but sleep doesn't come.
I recently met a person who swore by the bed they had.
The Perfect Bed.
The Bed You Never Left
The Bed Which Allowed Sleep for Days.
A mystical unicorn of beds.
When I finally was invited to look at this bed I became a believer of the respite a bed can bring.... even though I have yet to experience, as an adult, a bed as such.
This bed was soft, it was cozy, it was perfect size, it was warm, the pillows were soft and the bed purred the lucky recipient into a perfect REM dream sleep.
perfect size for one to two or three....
whatever the fancy.
music, darkness, and the perfect airflow.
Unicorn Bed
Through life:
We start in a tiny bed ....
everything we need and want, right outside baby reach
In our middle life the bed is where we connect, make love and find our hearts and dreams...
and as we lay dying:
the bed we are in becomes all we know.
It becomes our last connection to life.
people visit, memories pass, and eternal sleep ensues.
The Bed.
write ya later,
xo,
m
