Insomniacs are homeless

In this room where intensity of light penetrating the darkness is dwindling. Where only ticks of the clock fight the deafening silence..

I lay here suspending my animation. I roll restlessly on my bed like I've forgotten to fight long ago. I fiddle with chances of me able to make it or simply give in to fade away.

I don't respond to the mice that run around here. Neither to the suicidal noises that take a toll now and then. It's simply a long run of nothing. Pure emptiness. A vacuum.

Do you ever feel like you belong nowhere? Not to yourself, not to anyone or anywhere. Doesn't that send creeps sometimes? How to find a purpose in these sorts?

Then I look around and take my mobile. Put on the incognito and jerk off hoping to fall asleep. I do. But is that the answer? Or it's the only one? 

I suppose life is a really long journey to fall asleep. Finding ways to sleep daily to pass out ultimately. Maybe sleep is where we belong. Sleep is home. The only purpose.