sleep spindles

I think I choose to stay awake most of the time in desperate attempts to avoid my dreams. That damn subconscious. I don't know whether it's timing, or me finally letting reality slap me in the face, but the older I get, the quicker my hope rises and falls, I don't know what that is, I don't know what it is. I guess it's just not supposed to happen this way. I think you are still stuck with ideas and ideal people, and maybe I wasn't enough mystery for you, enough silent allure. I wish you saw the sparks in my eyes for yourself. I'm ready to come home and leave the fog behind.