papering the window panes

I try to sleep with a heavy metal weight clinging to my chest and the silence of the whole house overpowers me. How does the world sleep on a night like this? The world is distant because it does not speak to the alienated people like me. It only opens itself to the people of good virtue and proper values. And a person like me, where do I fit in? I am neither extremely intelligent nor extremely beautiful, I do not know how to please people with ease, every conversation with another human being is an endeavor I am not always willing to take. I want to shun myself out to the outside world, but being alone inside is just as hard.

Where do I belong? That seems to be the most painful question I always find myself asking. I have spent almost half a year now dealing with patients during clinical duties and I think I could handle it physically, but I don’t think I could be with people during the worst day of their lives. Could I handle death without faltering? The mere thought of a person’s soul detaching from the body frightens me. I do not care of the smell or the gruesome sight of a corpse, what scares me is the idea that a person CAN die. That he is capable of leaving this world and crossing to the other side.

But wait. I have to be lying to myself if I continue. WHY am I really sleepless? I don’t know. I find every reason not to sleep. I can’t stop myself from wondering what went wrong. I guess I like you too much, I’m afraid of being left by you. I don’t know what I did wrong because nothing feels right.

Whew, now I let it out, that was the underlying problem. Now to the main problem, am I just diverting things? Am I just displacing all my misery or is this really my problem? Crap, I have no idea what to do. Sometimes I just wake up and I can’t go back to sleeping.

The thing is, I want to cry, a long, loud cry that would let it all out, I guess I don’t have enough reasons to cry. So I’ll just write again.