Anonymous
Late at night while the whole house sleeps, I’m wide awake staring at the ceiling. I hate that damn ceiling. I always think to myself, “What’s beyond it?” and the answer seems obvious. It’s the sky and the only way for me to get to the sky is with money. I’ve known this ever since I was a child. My upbringing was pretty rough. I grew up in a divided family with animosity on both sides. All I ever had to take away the stress was music. I used it to drown out the yelling and the cries, the pain, because that was all I knew. I was always a cry baby, but nowadays, it feels like I’ve cried so much my tear ducts have closed up. Am I too skinny, do I look good today? What do I want to do in the future? Will I be good enough to do it? Maybe I shouldn’t wake up tomorrow, maybe I should just stay asleep, but as I collect my thoughts, I realize that the only person that can get to my future is me and the only way to get to that future is with money. So, I throw it all to the back of my mind and mask the pain with a smile as I prepare myself for my 365-day routine. So, with the closing of my eyes and the stillness of my house, I depart from my late-night thoughts.