conversations i keep having with myself

The following are fragments of dialogue that I have with myself when I can't sleep:

In 7 hours, I'll be awake and will have to repeat the day I just experienced. Most things will be the same, except everyone will be wearing different clothing. When did I stop needing a night light to ward off the darkness? I should write more speeches. I should write more of those long epic tales that discuss something truly meaningful. I should write more. Why do people judge each other so much, even when they promise not to? I wish my friends now were my friends five years ago. I wish I could have grown up knowing them. Look at the moon beams dancing on my pillow. Look at the way they slant in through the blinds on my window. How am I supposed to sleep with the moon sliding and slipping all over my pillow? The moon is pretty far away from me. Right now. Lightyears away, in fact. What's beyond the moon? Nothingness. What's beyond nothingness? A lack of nothingness. I wonder what the point is to all this. If all there is beyond the moon is nothingness, there is nothing else. I'm so tired. Physically and mentally. This year- it's so difficult. I want to hear his voice again, but it's probably too late. He might be asleep already. I should be asleep too, but I'm not. Why am I not asleep? Oh yeah, those moon beams. It's always the moon's fault.



to be continued.

improvements

i've never even felt pretty before.
and now, now i feel beautiful.