Alright, so I was looking at my old stuff from back in middle. Keep in mind this is is almost four years old, and a bit on the nonsensical side. I made this when I was suffering from bad insomnia back in (8th? 7th?) grade. I'm not much of a poetry writer, in fact I prefer writing fiction so much more, but I might as well post this since I don't have anything else here. Rated R for the cussing.
The night of forever.
I could turn on the light box. The prince would be looking at me.
Fresh as always, solving problems that could be solved in half an hour.
A fake reality.
Or a real one. How can anyone say anything is fake when it exists?
Can you be sure you're not fake?
I'll answer for you.
Yes.
Are these words even worth it?
The droning sounds plays again and again. It's not the same 926 times. Then it is again. Much like a record, but too far off.
It's haunting.
But not scary. It reads in my mind every time. Yours too. I've memorized it.
Were they wrong?
The light can help get darkness. Which is what I want.
What I need.
What I desire.
Praying won't help.
God considers such matters fruitless.
He calls to me, man. Inside me.
You don't. You would not like to think something about yourself is pointless.
When looking at other people it is.
You can only talk as if they're whining.
Which is exactly what you're thinking right now.
I can see a man.
Insomnia is too light of a word.
Fucking hell is more like it.
Or inner peace.
Thinking helps you. Humans are all selfish. Not stay awake. Still helps.
Those sons of bitches.
The perfect environment makes no difference.
It's all a fake reality anyway.
Nobody likes to go there.
We all are though.
Those of us that aren't fake anyway. Those of us who fiction has engulfed.
I hope to dream forever. It takes less than a minute.
