In the night

He tossed and he turned. Nothing changed. He told himself it's all right. It has always been this way. Nothing changed. He closed his eyes again. This shouldn't be bothering you. I need to sleep. My realizations mean nothing. Nothing changed. He thought to himself.

Me, tossing and turning here. It's ironic. It's the same as everything else. He smiled. It wasn't filled with happiness. Or joy. It was just a tiny bit of satisfaction, the kind one gets when filled with a sense of superiority. In this case, or in any other case he realized, undeserving. Which made him smiled another strange smile.

Meaningless. This is meaningless. He turned and tossed on his bed, feeling the horrible throb in his head, caused by his thoughts, prodding him awake every time he drifts closer to slumber. Then he thought of people. His best friends, how oblivious they are. Worrying about girls/guys.. grades.. peers.. As if anyone can understand. No. Humans aren't made to make pointless realizations. He knew he was no better, and he suffers from what they worry about as much as they do.

None of them probably lay awake in bed, head throbbing, uncomfortable, and disturbed for no real reason though.