Friday, June 14, 2013

#13


bed, black and white, blanket, book, light

These days, I'm not the usual me. Even sometimes I feel like I'm not even me. I often think that I'm an old soul in a young body. But not the wise one. I've been thinking too much, I've seen things that might happen and heard things that could be true in my brain. It's suffocating me, like hell, because they are bad, far from good. Sometimes, when I finally could stop thinking and reminiscing, and eventually could go to sleep, I wish everything will be fine- Just like what I've seen in my dreams. I dreamed about very beautiful things, so I wish I could keep on dreaming. Because I know that dream, fantasy is way better than the reality. Reality sucks. And in point of fact, it's much sucker when I already know that it happens that way because of me.
Putting the blame on myself.

Sometimes, I would just tell myself that I should just let it be. Like, telling myself that I've seen it all, I've felt it all, then just had my time, the way I could. Anyway, every so often, I would get up and start all over again, too. But when it failed again, I could feel that my body is throbbing slowly. Even now, I feel like I got nothing, but my aching soul.
Think and pray, think and pray all over again, until I fall asleep.
So I can dream in my fantasy.

They are unaware of my insecurities. They are unaware that I'm aching, when I'm actually faking smiles. No one is aware, when I hope someone will.
Just like in my dreams.

I wish one day, I won't bother if I can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than my dreams.