Whispers

Well, I was sleeping. A bit. Ok, I know that I don't sleep much.
But I feel weird, most of the times, I wake up angry. Because most of the time I hate sleeping, feels like a waste of time, a waste of useful time in which I could be doing something useful. I just don't know exactly what. But I'm not feeling angry right now, I'm just... numb.
For sure, it won't last. And I've gotta sleep better today, at all costs.
And my head feels a bit empty. I don't feel like writing about hatred in here, though I don't know what exactly should I write about. If I'm unable to feel anger, then I'd rather not feel anything at all.
I remember a question. What were my hopes... I always feel like I don't know how to answer these questions. All too abstract, too... easy to answer wrongly. At least that's what I feel, even when I think that these questions don't have right or wrong answers, as long as you answer what you feel toward what was asked. But I don't know, I still feel that way. As if I couldn't feel like others felt...
Perhaps the problem is that I think too much and I try to consider all possibilities, thus I can never answer these things surely, confident that I'm doing it right. It's strange...
Somedays I feel like I'm an abomination, something that just can't fit to the normal world. But then again, that's stupid, let's move on.
I'd rather have someone to tell me where should I move on to... I'll try my best to obey.
Man... I just hate too feel slow like this. Without all the hating it feels like there's space for fear...


You know what I want, like, right now?
What?
To gather nice people, get a car, and just hit the road, heading for... anywhere. As long as there is at least someone out there with me.
Is it feasible?
I'm not very sure.
Then we can try.