I stare at the LED screen, it's been a few hours.
I can start to feel that hum of the light and vibrations of thoughts behind my eyes, telltale signs of not blinking for too long.

I sit slouched on my bed, bent over my laptop immersed in another world-- one of ideas and electrical signals.

50 year old me will look back on these days, I'll probably regret my poor posture, poor diet and bulimic tendencies.

I am a product of my generation, addicted to any escape mechanism to which I can cling, God knows there's tons of viable outlets.

I can talk to strangers online and pretend I'm important. I can play games like living another life, I can do drugs, have lots of *** and immerse myself in the complications of relationships.  I can develop an eating disorder and immerse myself in the depths of that nightmare; anything to avoid the even bigger nightmare which is life, which is truth.

I choose not to wake up.
world of war craft-- not wars and bombings in far away countries.
Strangers online--not my ****** up family problems.
Celebrity Instagram-- not politicians and corruption.
Selfies-- not self worth.
I choose not to wake up.