Insomnia: overthinking about something during night time (prevents someone from sleeping)

A white line was getting visible far away from here. Looking at it rising up in the night sky, trying to reach the moon, was the only thing I could do. Because I had what people called insomnia. It wasn’t medically verified or anything, it was just what I found on the internet.

Internet: the reason a person can’t sleep

I decided to try, for the fifth time. I closed the curtains and went back to my bed, got comfortable in it and turned the environnement into a dark place. The dark place that didn’t frighten me, the only one that didn’t activate my phobia. Because I was all alone in it. For sure.

The lamp wasn’t turned on since some light was getting in from the edges of the curtains, slowly, so, I really didn’t care. To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to it.

The insignificant light wasn’t the matter here.

It was them: the ones that turned my self-created dark environnement into a black chalkboard. Not an old dusty chalkboard, an anonymous one.

Jumping from bed: sign of excitement (noticeable in teenagers)

“The chalkboard” I said after 10 hours of silent sky staring “is it the answer?”. Still confused, I went down to take my early breakfast.

You should stop eating and start thinking about that message you got when you were half asleep

“Oh fuck it! Those are just dreams, only dreams”.

Can you dream while being awake?

Of course…not…

Exactly! The room is the answer
Subconscious: another mother, the one that you can’t escape from

Trusting myself, or it (whatever), I went back to my personal space and got into the same position as earlier. But this time,


The light already invaded my room and I wouldn’t be sleeping with the sun out, no. Not like this.

So why did it tell me to go back?

Phone: the other cause of insomnia. And the cure

It rang as loud as ever. The alarm.

Social media: Not the right place to declare your feelings to someone

Scrolling through my feed I found something really weird.

Some apps are made for that

I didn’t install it. I just left a message to the ones I couldn’t stop thinking about:

-The cold guy I’ve stalked multiple times

-The one that didn’t answer my messages

-The one I prefered not to talk to

-That girl

Declaration: generally an act of bravery, sometimes it is considered as cowardness

The phone, under the pillow.

The person, grabbing it peacefully.

The sun, shining right above that abandoned body.

Not dead; asleep.

And reassured.

Because the confession wasn’t like all the others.

Anonymous confession: the trend that saved a bunch of teenagers, putting others in despair


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