Hypnic Jerk

Every now and then I get rudely woken up from sleep by a hypnic jerk. It makes its way into my body right when I’m about to cross from awake to asleep. 

But instead of lifting the curtain and slipping over to the other side the ground under my feet disappears. I hurtle toward the ground and right before I’m about to hit the ground, I wake up. Heart racing, palms sweaty, breath shaking.

When I’m sleeping I fall from the top of the mountain to down in the valley. When I’m awake I often feel like I’m hurtling full-speed sideways.

I’m in space but instead of peacefully floating I’m being forcefully pulled towards a black hole somewhere far. There’s no top or bottom but I’m going from point A to an unseen, unfamiliar point B at breakneck speed.

I’m flailing my arms around, trying to find something to grab onto. But there’s nothing in this void except for me. I look down but my body doesn’t exist. I see without eyes and I still feel.

I’m moving fast and I just want the pull to slow down. Give me time. I want to take it all in. But it doesn’t stop or even slow down.

I don’t know where I’m going or how quickly I’ll get there. I can tell I’m picking up more speed by the friction I feel moving against that void even without skin. 

After what feels like a few seconds or hours or decades, I KNOW I’m about to meet point B. I brace for impact, a painful splat and close my eyes. I don’t want to see my last undoing. Right there, an inch away from the point of impact the black hole disappears.

Time slows down again. I go from hurtling to floating, cradled in a familiar womb. 

Paired Listening

Sounds of the Nature – Gennady Tkachenko-Papizh

From the Five Part Body Playlist