Exhausted. Quite, but caf­feine fills me with its clever aware­ness. It is night and I can­not sleep. I feel the goose­bumps on my arm and know that I’m still alive. My mind is filled with com­fort­able, famil­iar emo­tions again. Ironic, that such som­bre feel­ings can make me so happy. Have I become a pris­oner in my self-fulfilling world? Will I remain trapped in this prophetic exis­tence forever?

I can­not tell.

Yet I fight against it.