Ramblings of an Insomniac

My dreams are starting to become my reality..

As I toss in bed trying my best to gather sleep and drift off to my new reality, I hear nothing but the slow beat my heart is doing and thoughts speaking loudly. My day is composed of my dreams- where my reality shows my fate being meshed with that of my lover, settling down in this weird but beautiful city, earning a lot and starting a life full of bliss. My thoughts much faster than my handwriting, I feel as if days spent awake and going about my duties are but a snail's pace of where I really want to be. I look forward to sleep where my reality lies - where dreams are happening in a much faster pace compared to when I am awake.

I've always dreamt of becoming a writer. I've imagined writing brilliant novels of people and plots that I won't ever experience. I've stumbled into being an idealist to being a pessimist and settled into someone who tries her best to make do with what's there. I've written down thoughts on journals and read them again if I want to reminisce past events that can never happen again. I've resorted to a mantra of "No What-if's" that made me do crazy things that if my parents knew would disown me without hesitation. I thought it would be better if I live my life without regrets and sometimes I think that's what I'm still doing. It's weird that most of the time I still think of myself as boring. It's what I used to call people who choose a nine-to-five job without ever getting out to smell the roses.

I'm a person with so much complication that I sometimes wake up at night and ask myself what I'm doing with my life. I've so many questions in my head that a shrink would have a hard time dissecting it. I have needs and wants that changes every season. I have a heart that cries at every sob movies but delight on the ones that have tragic endings. I'm a confused individual who thinks the world should slow down enough for me to catch up. I'm sick and demented..and I can't sleep.