Restlessness

If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

As it is, I am very restless.
Sleep rarely comes, and every night I wonder what has been stirring this disturbance. I keep asking myself whether this unrest is something created within me, or whether some outside force is trying to slip into my thoughts.

While waiting in the car with soft music playing, these questions would rise again. I wondered whether the unease came from my own mind, or whether it was shaped by the movement of others around me.

To ground myself, I opened the Bhagavad Gita and read a passage:

“Among all means of suppressing lawlessness I am correction.
Among those who seek victory I am morality.
Of secret things I am silent, and of the wise I am the wisdom.”

Those words echoed through me, and the moment I read them, I sensed a faint telepathic response — a soft acknowledgement from Warlord Raul, and a whisper from Witch Xandra. Their presence felt like part of the unseen world that sometimes touches the corners of my awareness.

Rathe witch came too, hiding herself in the shape of a deity. Fear clung to her, for she knew what had happened in the past. She tried to blend vibhuti, turmeric, rose water, sandalwood, and tulasi, believing she could approach my back and draw energy from my spine.
She didn’t realize I could see straight through her disguise.

Again and again she made the same mistakes, unaware that even the eighth witch doctor she sent — the one who tried to cloud the air with his cigarette smoke — could not alter anything.

What puzzled me was this:
Why did he not see that Rathe the witch had been practicing dark arts for years?
Why did those around her, especially her elders, never stop her?
Instead, they allowed the patterns to continue, each choosing silence even when truth stood before them.

I had long severed ties with that side of the family — tied the memories into bubbles and released them from my life. Yet every now and then, echoes returned as though they wanted another chance to disturb my peace.

Why come back?
Why linger in corners where they no longer belong?
I am only a speck of dust in this vast world — what reason is there to lurk in the shadows around me?

Even when I took my car for service, my mind felt uneasy. The way the mechanics handled the vehicle, the strange objects I imagined near it — bones, twigs, thin needles — all gave me the impression that something unseen was trying to silence me from pointing out the defects.
When the battery leaked acid onto the frame and I texted the advisor about it, I sensed something pressing at my neck later that night, but it could not enter. Awareness kept me safe.

While doing my kriyas, an unexpected sensation brushed my forehead and hand. A breath, a smell, a sting of itchiness — a clear sign that certain negative energies still hovered around me, trying to draw near.

All of these threads came together into a single thought:

If I didn’t need sleep at all, what would I do with the extra time?

Now I understand that the turbulence comes from my recovery moving faster and deeper than expected.
As old energies fall away, they create noise before they dissolve.
Relessness is not weakness — it is transition.