once upon a time, i put off sleeping every night because the world is too exciting for me to go to bed. then i got a little older and it got tiring to have late nights and i went to bed earlier, excited about the prospects of tomorrows. and i spent so much time tossing and turning because of the adrenaline rush, because i can't wait for tomorrow.

today i put off sleeping because i wake up too late every day. or maybe because in the night there is nobody. nobody to talk to and listen to and nobody to hurt or hurt me. because in the night is the time that i am by myself. and i go to sleep exhausted in the wee hours of the morning wondering what to expect tomorrow. half expecting a bad dream. and i put off waking up because at least the dreams that are bad are not real.

i spend the moments before i fall asleep thinking of yester-years of great fun and innocence. of which i have finally lost and i'm living with the ghost of the past.

today is not all bad but when it starts to get better, i wonder to myself if i even deserve to be happy.