cosmina0927

Four o`clock in the morning… the night and its silence give me a strange kind of energy. I`m shouting, but it seams to be a deaf cry, for the silence has not been broken. I can barely see my reflection in a soda bottle on my desk. Why do I consider myself a victim of insomnia, when I actually like it? Why am I thinking of what I`m supposed to be doing right now, and not of what I feel like doing? Habits… Anyway, I like it this way. The only one awake is me. I can see them all, they all can`t see me. Once again, I find myself watching… I`m judging a world under a spell… It`s so, so early…