I do not know what’s wrong with me that I’m never satisfied with the way things are. I always find a way to mess things up. I don’t know why I insist on reviewing things after they’ve happened. I think and think about them while they’re happening and it doesn’t make a difference, things still turn out for the worst.

I can’t sleep, my mind won’t let me. So many thoughts and so little time. The days and activities run together, but the thoughts are clear and distinct, sharp and bewildering. So much that must be said and so few to hear it, so far to let the word spread, but so many too ignorant to listen.