I’m tired.
Tired of being misunderstood.
Tired of being uninspired.
Tired of my routine.
Tired of acting ok when I’m not.
Tired of holding myself to an impossible standard.
Tired of believing, in my heart of hearts, that everything is going to be ok. I really have no way of controlling that.
Tired of being let down.
Tired of having nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Tired of harboring anger and resentment even though I convinced myself that I have forgiven it and moved on.
Tired of being tired all day, only to be awake all night, wishing for the morning when I can move about freely
Have my precious coffee
Keep myself busy
Immerse myself in noise
Distract myself from the pending night
where I will stare at my ceiling, with endless, deafeningly silent hours ahead of me, trying to deny just how fucking lonely I really am…
Superman found his phone booth 