Fighting Oneself

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.

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