Why should I dream...

Even as I cringe, and crawl
to the pit of despair,
I know it is wrong
and yet, I do not care.
The horror awaits me,
and I am left to face me.

How can I hope to understand. First, how can I hope? And why should I? It is but a night, and tomorrow the sun will spring up and wash away all the sorrows that drench the earth this very night.
Why does one sit in the darkness? To wait, and wait. A red eye piercing my heart from across the room. When I turn on the light, it is only the light from my tv. Turn off the light, and it begins to frighten me. The wind tears through the trees outside, and a slight tap tap tap as the rain smacks the pavement. And yet I still wait for you...in the darkness...frozen.
Death...it is cold, and soft. Awakening from someone else's dream, in to my very own. Forever.
There is no difference, only the transition between life and death. And then life starts all over again.
Why must I be insightful, and knowledgeable. If life is really so desperate and destructive why do we fight it? Because we hate the pain. Or do we?
I come off a high sometimes. Not a drug high, not an emotional high, but a high of getting the tasks appointed to me done on time and in time. Then I crash and question myself. Who am I? Why am I?
Compassion? Mercy? Kindness? Where do they exist in this world? Anywhere? If I can not even give them to the person I love, than to who? And who will give them to me? I'm TIRED of being strong. I'm tired...

It's been raining a long time now...