Before I sleep, I think of what I am worth. I think of who I am. I think of my purpose on earth and I think of all my mistakes. I think of how I either love myself or hate myself. think of the pain I caused and received. I think of the love I have and don’t have. I think of all that I lost and all that I believe I never will have. I think of my two friends who are seriously and, I believe, truley my friends. I think of my aquaitences and somewhat friends. I think of my past lovers and the lovers who I will never have. I think of time and what it exactly is. I think of people and who they really are. I think of my past. I think of my depression. I think of all my pain and my scars then I think of everyone elses. Then I think of nothing. I think of the emptiness and the sadness that appears out of nowhere. I think of how I believe that only I can handle me, and that I will be alone. I feel that I will be alone. And when I’m done thinking about how no one really cares, I think about puking my guts out. I think about crying, but it takes to much effort so I end up laying here wanting to puke and ball my eyes out at how fake some friends are and how much effort I put into fake friendships, and I think about how much I want to puke and cry at all that I think about… I want to puke at how pathetic I am. I want to puke my guts out, and sometimes… I just think about fading to black and forgetting the world. That’s what I think about before going to bed. That’s what I’m thinking about now.