the lost man chronicles
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Snooze, the sleepy muse
Such a splendid word, this word snooze.
Snooze you lose. Snooze button: Stand-alone verb, action-cum-inaction verb.
Combining the pre-riled snore and the procrastinating nasal-buzz of a few more minutes of deep sleep, snooze seems to perfectly capture the sentiment, the sound, and the apathy of the somnolent retreat.
I remember when in high-school Snooze and I had a pretty good relationship. We were quite intimate quite often. She would rouse me slowly, so that we would go at it 4 or 5 times every morning.
Twenty years later I can’t afford the luxury of such laziness. Now, I jump up at 4 or 5 in the morning without giving a second thought to indulging in the plush warmth of REM that I am inevitably in and have just begun to sink into at this sore-eye and ungodly twilight hour.
I’ll admit though, I snoozed a little this morning, for the first time in a long time—years perhaps. Hence, this accolade, this nostalgic ode in the name of the sleepy muse who once sluggishly piqued me so pleasantly into torpid surrender.
So Snooze, it was nice seeing you again this morning. Perhaps, we’ll meet again some day.
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