At two o'clock in the morning I do not know what is left to be taken advantage of. If I poke my eyeball with a graphite pencil will it bleed right away or will it simply fester for some time before it explodes? I lay carelessly on a stack of books and sort through the images floating in and around my head.
If I were a lunatic I believe some things would be easier to tolerate. I often traverse the many continents of my subconscious world. There are many things I ignore and many things that humanity ignores.
We are not machines but we think we are. We are not hollow beings without emotion. We absorb the good and the bad because they aid us in our sociological development.
At two o'clock in the morning I do battle with some impending insecurity. It makes a mockery of me, perniciously. Now, dreams are made for dreamers and I dream them.