Those nights. Those nights, late and dark, when I'm just lying on my bed wide awake. When there are no cars or people to be seen or heard on the streets. When everything is quite and there is a sort of tranquility in the vast atmosphere of the city. Those nights when my room is caliginous and I have my eyes open, staring up at something I can't see. I despise those nights. Not because I hate the dark, on the contrary, I welcome it. Letting it envelop me and hide me from the harsh reality, the world which I desperately try to escape but I'm forced to face everyday with a smile. I hate those nights not because they are somber but because at that time there is no escaping my thoughts. My sinister, malignant, mind starts to wander and roam within the deepest, unreachable, chambers in my head which I've worked so hard to keep buried inside me. Digging out all my doubts, my insecurities and my fears. That vile mind of mine invigorates those undesirable thoughts to rise to the top to pollute me and fill me with doubts, pain and malaise. I hate those nights because I start to over-think, to doubt myself and I realize the world can be such a gloomy, hateful, place. I become aware, I can see, what kind of person I am and I'm not happy with what I Perceive in my tired mind. Those nights when I think about how deceiving and how unreliable people can be. The nights when reality finally hits me, like a hard blow to my chest, and I lose my breath because I've realized how worthless words can be and I can feel the salty tears being concieved in my eyes. Those night when you're terrified by your own thoughts. I hate those nights.