Tired I am. Sleepy too.

Tired I am. Sleepy too. Thoughts of the day’s activities haunt me. They rewind and replay in my mind, and I know tomorrow they shall bring nothing but more worries, or perhaps more sorrow. Do we settle for something much less perfect that what is actually in store for us? Are we perhaps to fickle minded to even know what isn’t we what?

Exhausted I am. Nearly awake, but not quite. Perhaps I am a slumber. Maybe this is but a dream. Only a woolgather. If it were only true, then I could awake to something else. Arise a different man, if only that were so.

If one could choose who one could awaken to be, I would choose different than I am. Its not that I don’t like the person in the mirror, after all he is a handsome man. Strong in his own ways, brilliant in others, but he is flawed. Filled with blemishes!

I rather be somebody without those wrinkles, without those bad habits, those irritating little behaviour patterns. Can I be him instead? Oh please let me.