And then I wish at times I could make you understand that the sadness I feel beneath this glow isn’t like those earth wrecking hurricane and storms, which comes once in a while to wreck away the city tops and amusement parks that can be rebuild all the way back. It feels like a cancer; a galloping ache that now thinks my chest as it’s home, a sound of a thousand soul shattering inside this brain, a human dying inside with heartbeat ceasing to a shake. It feels like a cancer; here I am awake at 3am because I forgot to tske my medication. Here I am standing at the door, trembling, not aware if I will even wake up the next morning as everyone in this house falls asleep. And you call me naive because I’m not like you, because I am not the like the people you always came to know in your life, your life that revolves a million worlds apart from mine. I’m on a voyage of nightmare. And I wake up to people that are more haunting than the nightmare I got in my childhood. They speak of love, and they speak of kindness but I’m sure I wasn’t raised to feel this sort of love and this sort of kindness that only puts another tainted needle on my chest, and ask me to be happy for I have everything. But what if what I have is never enough? What if I’m not the mind you ought me to have? And do you ever lay back on nights you cannot fall asleep and think about the billion other people who are suffering a tragedy inside themselves, just like me.