Actually it's not the sleep I hate, but the thoughts that wanders through my head whenever I try to sleep. I have all these other lives that I'm in where problems never really bothered me. Seems to me that my mind is forcing me to think about these 'good lives' so that I will avoid thoughts that leads me to my own life, which is not really great. It hurts because in the end, it's nothing but a thought, it's nothing but your imagination gone wild, and when you open your eyes, you're still same you: a fucked up self. And whatever 'good lives' you've dreamed of will remain as a dream. Either because you have no power whatsoever to actually make it happen or you have dreamed of something that borders from reality and fantasy.
But its not the worse.
Whats worse is having to go through it alone. How I wish someone could sing me to sleep, or someone will talk to me until I drift off to Dreamland. Actually, just someone to share these scary thoughts is enough for me, someone to listen is enough for me. Someone to limit your thoughts, someone to remind you that its far too unrealistic. Someone who will be there when all you can do is cry. Someone who will hug you, and whispers in your ear that everything will be alright.
But you know whats worst.
It's when you finally get to sleep and you wake up thinking that you have to go through it alone again.
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