i don’t know

Writing

I don’t know about my dreams anymore. I don’t have any poignant status or being in my dreams anymore. I’ve just been falling into sleep at late hours of the night with question on my mind. I know that I’m turning for the worst. The pressure that people say that I’m under will turn me into a flawless diamond; yet I feel as if I’m being crushed by all of the things around me. With little air to breathe I’ve begun to suffocate.

I might as well fall into my death bed and be surrounded by roses filled with tears of pity and sympathy.

I don’t know if I’m dreaming as I fall into my bed and cocoon myself in semi-soft sheets. I don’t have anyone to turn to so I might as well fall in.  It’s moments like this where I feel as if I’m re-enacting dramatic deaths in films. I know my body is falling; I want it to. I have thoughts of all the dark periods I’ve been through just to go through more. Yet; through all travesty I’ve found some intelligence to better myself.

Yet I know the world is still so cold and unforgiving; but I still better myself.

All to find myself back at the beginning of a cycle of love and pain. I don’t know about love anymore, I know that I love those around me and the ones I care about deeply. But I still don’t know what love is.

I know what pain is, Pain is the most beautiful thing to ever grace the human body. Without pain we’d make simple mistakes over and over. Pain creates thoughts and impulses.

Of course I know what pain is, pain is the thing that I’ve always felt in my entire existence. Pain is what pushes me into just simply falling into my bed as if I’m dead and lay there until I have the courage to face my life again.

They say all of this pressure, is going to mold us into diamonds without a single flaw, Perfection.

All of this pressure is supposed to mold us, into being perfect; why do I feel like I’m the only diamond with fractures? I feel as if all of the pressure is slowly pressing down upon my fractures and I’ll soon shatter.

Once I do, I’ll never gain the courage to face life again.

No matter what I do, I’ll feel the pressure of life pressing against me. This is inescapable.

So why can’t I just imitate death and fall into my bed slowly and wish to never get up?

The idiotic statement that we all make “I wish life was a dream.”

I wish it were too, I could simply fall into my bed, and fall in my dreams.

Because I simply don’t know about my life anymore, I’m distraught and when I fall into sleep.

I don’t dream. I just don’t want to feel.

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