Sometimes I wonder whether the night blurs my reality,

spending that much time mulling things over must alter it to some extent.

But sometimes I wonder whether this is when I’m finally thinking clearly.

The rush of daytime expectations and interactions, I feel, are structures of society which mould us together so that we are typically similar in our norms yet not our thoughts. 

But when my head hits the pillow and three hours later I still find myself observing new thoughts, questions and ideas I ask myself why now? 

Does the day repress them so much that only now, when the world I’ve so carefully moulded to is finally at rest, can I finally think individually?

If others are also scared of vocalising their differing minds then how will we as a society ever develop new things?

Why is the sun repressing my thoughts which go beyond what I’ve been taught?

And why has the moon shown me the true meaning of a ‘deafening silence’?

I believe that I enjoy my own company more than the average person, yet my thoughts become so loud that I must, again, throw myself back into the arms of the societal norms which repress them before I am pulled away from reality permanently.

Surely these bad dreams are my way of releasing things which cannot be acknowledged throughout the day.

And surely this busy mind can one day be seen as a blessing, and not madness.

So I ask myself again, 

does night time alter my reality?

Or am I finally seeing things clearly

    (Not a poem just late night writing so not well structured, would love to hear thoughts or criticisms as it’s my first time having a go at something like this, thanks for reading!)