I think I sleep.
I don’t know.
It all seems the same to me.
I try to watch or work at night.
But I often feel like I just want my laptop to keep me company.
I take out my phone to see who I can call.
But its past midnight.
I don’t want my problems to be there’s.
And what will I say?
I barely explain or understand how or what I am feeling.
I feel a war raging inside me.
I know it is my choice to choose which way I should go.
Decisions are the worst and hardest thing to ever happen to me.
So I remain where I am because I am comfortable with what I know.
I am past my addictions but the linger of a smoke,
Feels way better than another’s lips on mine.
But that route scares me so much, I fear I might not turn back.
Music calms me.
It gives a false calmness till I cannot take it anymore.
Then I just lay there, gazing at the ceiling and enjoying the comfort of my walls.
The more I face God the worse it seems to get,
So I write.
Everything feels false.
I end up asking myself if I really did that or if I really did say that.
This is my paradise and my hell.