Slept in again?
My night habits are getting the best of me
And you're not the man
I imagined you'd be when I was young.
I can't just blink the fatigue away; I sit there for a minute.
Check Twitter: I'm addicted.
I have an addictive personality.
Go downstairs, brew a cup of coffee. I'm addicted.
Eat oatmeal and a banana. Bananas make me feel sick to my stomach.
Fight it back and get in the shower. When I get older,
I tell myself, I will have a very nice shower.
It's one place where I don't have to worry about anything.
Get out, wipe the fogged mirror. When will this acne leave me alone?
Brush my teeth & scrub my tongue until I gag.
Saliva falls from my mouth; I'm disgusted with myself.
Get dressed: I no longer care to impress those around me.
Dress nicely because I lie to myself all the time.
Headphones tuned in, world tuned out. It's all I have to look forward to.
I'm in class now. I forgot to read ahead...again. My laziness costs me.
I get my quiz from friday back: a 60. Begin self-hate. Why couldn't I just study?
Take careful notes. Check twitter in the middle of a lecture. I sit front row: he can see me.
Rinse and repeat: regain some sanity by listening to music in between classes.
Finally get home. Eat whatever is easy to prepare.
I sit down and decompress. I decide to do whatever homework is due the next day. I decompress.
Meet up with Mike. We do some drugs: I'm addicted.
Everything I hated about myself changes: I'm a genius.
We watch Django,
we talk about the traditional white fairy-tail being black
we free-style rap and laugh; I love doing this.
We take a drive; I'm very careful. We play more music. I love doing this.
We meet up with some friends
drive out to a field: we talk about movies
you know, cinematography, your favorite writer, favorite scenes,
they ask me about physics and I explain it
I'm great with metaphors,
I'm amiable and invigorated.
We laugh so hard we cry. I'm addicted.
I drive Mike back. We listen, wordless.
We are children of the world: blissful in our ignorace.
I get in bed. I dread my alarm.
"I am not the man I send to class in the morning
tired and confused."
I drift off to sleep.
I dream about knowing who I am.
Because to me it is a dream
And the reality I am torn in is terrifying
Is this what everyone goes through?
Or is this just the construct of my own mind?