I am awake again.

This feeling of being an insomniac is killing me. I find that it might be a punishment for the bad things I have done. They say the guilty cannot sleep. “Sleep no more! Macbeth hath murdered sleep.”

I struggle to be brave everyday. Sometimes I offend without thinking and I am afraid I am pushing my friends farther and farther from me. It is so hard to be nice. I always thought I was a nice person, but now maybe circumstances have shown that I am not naturally like that.

It feels too hot. I don’t understand why the new pillow my parents bought feels so hard under my head. My head feels heavy. Maybe it isn’t the pillow.

Maybe its just my thoughts that are weighing me down.


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