Every time I think

Another day comes and I'm still in bed. I beg and I pray and I moan before opening my eyes. Once I'm awake, life starts happening and I can't stop thinking. What else? What if...? What the f...? I'm quite often upset by a number of little things. Suspicious. Annoyed. Sad or alone? Lonely. Careless, hopeless, misunderstood; usually mistaken for somebody else: people I don't like, people I don't know. I try to give what people want to take and I cry because it's never enough. At the end of the day I don't even know what I mean anymore. When I fall asleep, my soul flies away and looks for a place I could feel at ease. When I wake up I realise it's too far from here and I'm just too badly paid! Every time I think I can, there comes another day...