they say sad times like these only come during changes of weather, and they blame it on your circadian rhythm. they could be right.

i just know that i don’t like sleeping anymore, because my dreams aren’t dreams, they’re visions straight out of hell. that’s where i’m going anyway, if those things they say are true. (***** little ****, let us fix you, okay? your feelings are only manifestations of the distance between you and your mother. lying is a sin, you can’t lie to god. suicide is sin, and you can't sleep your life away one day you'll awaken, until you don't.) but god, being awake is almost worse.

but there are some bright lights and, i swear, i’ve been holding onto them like my heaven and i love them so much and everything might be okay even if there are times when i can’t differentiate my sad tears from the ones triggered by joy.

maybe it’s okay to be awake, maybe one day i’ll be alright. maybe it’ll be soon. maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe...