Middle of the Night.

The aimless words that flow from my often too busy mind seem jumbled and confused. It is the time of night when its finally quiet. I should be sleeping, but I can't quiet the voices in my head are loud enough to keep me from drifting off to the sweet release that sleep would certainly bring. Nothing seems to be of great importance and time is a place that never seems to leave me alone.
Perhaps I am not well. I don't feel ill but one can never know for sure if ones mind is in working order or not. It seems that I am aimlessly roaming a sea of books and pencils. I am just overcome by all that seems to be ahead on this road called life.
I think that perhaps I am not standing as close to what I believe as perhaps I portray. Could I be deceiving myself and all those around me. Could I be just a really good liar and not even be who I say that I am. I am tired. Blankness overcomes me and the morning comes fast. I am finding hope a heavy burden. It is all the world in one small word.