Sleep

As i lie in bed Suffering insomnia, of which is slowly derailing my mental state and unraveling my tether to reality, I stare at an empty wall. I hear voices, whispering.....voices. To which I come to a conclusion: the spectrum of my sanity is defined by humanity. Humanity is imperfect. Thus, having no credibility in defining such madness... undefined. I pondered: if my own words are subduing my own perception of my madness. I must stop thinking. IT is slowly poisoning me. But what is a empty thought. Is there such thing as nothing- is nothingness an entity of itself. I ponder. I think. Quietness echos. Darkness pours into the room as the candle dies. Dead. What is death.

Stop

I search farther into my mind to only find questions. Questions that lead to more questions than answers. Was I a fool to even start this maze. This maze of life- of being conscious.

I....I've dreamt of futile attempts to stop wondering. I've always ended up where I am now, staring at this blank wall thinking of how it would look like if not empty. I envy the wall. I hate the wall. Spiteful of the nothingness. Tears rip through my eyes like the Berlin Wall crashing down. Compulsively overwhelmed with questions. Entropy of questions. Why am I crying. I think it's because my mind, out of desperation, has its questioning hands around my throat.

Suddenly I am looking down at myself: silence for I am no longer a wonderer.