The Problem with Imagination

It was 3am. I was in bed alone before the episode struck. My dreams consisted mostly of fabricated conversations of non-existent relationship problems with several people in my life. I tossed and turned as sound waves and voices echoed through my mind as if passing me on a train.

I stared at the clock, 3:13. For some reason the conversations and fabricated arguments faded and I began seeing bugs and insects. Every time I closed my eyes a massive bug with huge eyes and antennas would be staring at me, almost as if it were waiting for something.

A movie reel of an earlier National Geographic film started playing sporadically and quickly through my mind with no sound. It was the same film I had watched weeks earlier about bed bugs, clearly here to haunt me.

My mind and I were at a stand off. It wanting to grab me by my hair and drag me through a series of horrific mind-fucking scenes… and me, wanting to sleep peacefully, without the impending relationship doom or delusional bed bug infestation.

I began counting. That sometimes works. I worked hard to envision the numbers and block out all other images and sounds, but those conversations were coming back faster and more garbled, and they were mixing with images of giant bugs.

I shot up from my bed and began scratching my arms my legs and shaking my head. “It’s just your mind… It’s fucking with you “ I told myself. Just to be sure, I turned on the light, stripped back the comforter and inspected the sheets.

All clear.

Dark again, I lowered myself into my bed, pulling my comforter around me like a cocoon while trying to envision myself meditating on a Cuban beach. Suddenly I began to feel the sheets move. I heard noises, like clicking noises (similar to the ones those creatures in Aliens make). My heart started pounding like a fucking jack hammer. The meditation scene faded into black and quickly filled up with thousands of scurrying noisy bugs.

I screamed and shot up and out from my bed, ripping my comforter and all of my pillows off. I even pulled off the fitted sheet exposing the bare mattress. I spent a good hour inspecting every square inch of the mattress looking for signs of an insectopia.

Never found it.

A.J. who must have fallen asleep in front of the PS3 came running up and said “What the fuck are you doing?” noticing that I had torn apart our bedroom. I had a bit of twitch at this point and was still scratching frantically.

“Bed bugs” I muttered “bed bugs”.

He laughed at me nervously and said “I don’t think so, our sheets are pretty clean. Do you want me to look?”

I shook my head and slowly backed out of the room leaving it in a disgrace. A.J. just stared at me with sleepy eyes astonished by the power of my delusions.

I slept on the couch for two weeks.


7 thoughts on “The Problem with Imagination

  1. Sounds like marital problems to me… 🙂

    Good thing I washed the sheets today or I would be thinking about this all night.

  2. Steve: No marital problems. Just a guy who loves Prince of Persia 🙂 Did you watch the YouTube clip? Doesn’t it freak you out?

    MrCorey: I have one of those minds that always takes things to a new obsessive level. Great for writing, bad for living. LOL!

  3. Anothe tidbit. Did you know that New York City is infested with bed bugs? Even the most exclusive Hotels are infested and thy can never get rid of them. Even if they trash a matress they go on the floor and come back. They just can never get rid of them.
    They even have to close scholls once in a while because of an infestation. Nasty huh?

  4. I vacuumed Fara’s ceiling for her today to rid her son’s room of spiders because of this video.

    My house is too clean for bugs… A rarity for me.

  5. Nothing like being one of those people who can put themselves into a panic attack all on their own without the help of the outside world huh lingo? LOL

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