I find myself staring at the ceiling for hours each night. It been like for just shy of a month now. Each night the same type of dreams plague me; it is of me being raped and mauled to the death by these faceless shadowy figures. My eyes are swollen now. When this first began, it was much worst for I was barely getting 4 hrs of sleep each night. Lately, I’ve been getting more hours of sleep, but still the restless kind. My past seems to always catch up with me… no matter how hard I can run, hide, or cope with it… it is inevitable. The very same reason why all the scars my body has seem to reopen eventually. I am probably destined to suffer. What little happiness there is always gets snuffed out. I find myself day dreaming of me taking a leap off the bridge and onto the train tracks below. I see it in a perspective as if I had already perished; that I am witnessing a glimpse into the future. A vision of things to come maybe. Even though I’m spending time with my friends, I still fall deep into this grave I’ve dug over this lifetime. I find myself more willing to leap in knowing it’s unavoidable. I can’t stand it…. this loneliness and emptiness that depression creates. That overbearing weigh on your chest as you breathe is always there. How long has it been there? When will it go away? No…. I don’t ask such questions. Instead, I ponder about whether I should crave my knife into my flesh. Bleed and fall deep into a slumber I will never awaken from knowing that my organs would be donated and give another a chance at life. If I’m not dying immediately, I’m certainly dying slowly. My entire life is falling apart and all I can do is stand there and watch as it crumbles away into nothing but dust.