My eyes are tired Welcome to a smaller veiw. Let's get rid of the larger perspective and come to a place called reality, my reality. Although i love to avoid thinking about it, analyzing it, or even comprehending my knowledge of it, some days it just hits me in the gut like an unexpected fist. One section at a time, like an annoying bug stuck in your bedroom while you are trying to sleep, thorns in my perfect hemisphere appear and only their sheer pain causes me to acknowledge them. Sometimes its just one thorn, enough to ignore. Only when I attempt to relax and rest does the thorn seek deep and begin to draw blood. Thus I am forced to attend to my wound, a process sometimes more painful than the actual puncture itself. Other times, a two or more thorns show up at a time. Now enough to harm my skin, I must slowly work out the thorns, one at a time. Attempting to remove both leads to further cutting a pricking and hurt. But none the less, I can handle them all. Then there are times like these, where it seems like someone has picked up the whole damn rose push and whacked the living daylights out of me with it. No thorns left on the bush, I am left confused, concerned, and utterly lost as to why I got this beating. Even more, I dont know which thorn to start with because each vain attempt simply withers my skin into a bloody mess. Man, I need some tweezers.
  ¶ 10:57 PM