Through · the · Eyes · of · a · Cyniik

I hate rolling around before I fall asleep. Lately, it's been taking forever. Glancing at the clock, I'd say that most people are asleep by now, perhaps a few might be waking up, getting ready for work. I can see the sky getting lighter, and I can hear the birds chirping their early, early morning (Or maybe, late, late night.) songs. I'm sprawled out on my bed, half wrapped up in my blankets, half naked skin touching the cool air. I can never get comfortable enough.

My mind wanders, it always does. My thoughts are entangled with a mix of 'What if's' and 'I should have's' among some other things. I shift around again and now I'm laying on my stomach. The still very dim light is creeping through my blinds and making a striped pattern on my wall. Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark.

Why don't I talk to anyone anymore? Why don't I want to talk to anyone anymore? It's moments like standing by the phone, staring at the caller I.D. and just letting it ring and ring until the answering machine gets it that let me know, I'm pretty anti-social. I don't know why. It wasn't always like that. I remember a time when I'd always be dieing to go somewhere and do something. Now I don't even want to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. I'd rather sleep. Not that I can.

The air conditioning turns off, and that's about the time I notice the silence. I'm staring at the wall, eyes dead set on nothing.