I rarely get as much sleep as I probably should, but every so often my mind is tired. Tired and never resting. Constantly thinking, evaluation, pushing.

Occasionally, my mind stops coming up with horrors to torment me with, and it is then when I truly know I am tired. Not my body, but all that is ME. It is at these times I have trouble holding my thoughts, I seem to lose them and then find them in states further along then when I lost track of them, or really lost them. I'm not sure.

As previously mention in this journal, my mind has made a habit of coming up with terrors to torture me with. And as previously mentioned in this post, my mind sometimes stops coming up with them. Whenever this happens, it scares me more then anything else except for the idea of someone I love harming themselves rather then me or not feeling any frustration or mild anger. When my mind can no longer conjure new sensations, it settles for the oldest, the first, image that it made to force me to deal with things beyond my scope of physical reality. It makes shadows shine, the dark glows. Not is some supernatural sense that would actually allow me to see in the dark, just... glow, shine, shimmer, twists my senses so that the dark seems unnatural, something wrong, something not understood, something to be feared. I have long ago come accustomed to it, even if it does to this day unsettle me a bit; but when it occurs, (as mentioned before) that is when I know that *I* am tired.

Yet two sins hold me so much in my being that I simple wait for the weights that drag and drain me to be let lose. For my pride does not allow me to give in to the weariness of my being, and my wraith does not permit me to ever forgive myself if I were to.

... I don't really know where I'm going with this...