I wanna sleep like happy people do

It's been a long time since I last wrote something.
A lot has changed in the world, in my world. I changed, yet people seem not to see it. I am bigger, not in weight, just me. I live more and feel more and think more. And that means I cry a lot more. I cry because I'm happy or because I'm sad, and these things didn't make me cry before, but because I'm so much more I get happier and sadder... and cry. And when I rest my eye those tears still linger on like a mad dream that never ends and it hurts. It hurts like a burn inside my chest and i feel the needles spinning in my stomach and sometimes it's just a slight sensation but sometimes, sometimes its so much... that I cry again. I cry because I cry and when I sleep there is no rest, for in my sleep too I am more, I am so much more than I have ever been and I feel so much more than I had thought I could feel.
Then comes the being tired.
Growing up has not been the fun experience I had imagined. Challenges face me every which way and although I have so much, I have everything, I do not own the things I have and for that reason I find it so hard to appreciate them. Is my life my own if someone else pays for my home and my food and cares for me when I am sick or sad? I can't appreciate the carrot i never watered, never picked out of the ground myself, and even if I try and remember, how much do I really understand the process?
And then I complain, and complaining makes things worse and I wish I never complained again, I wish this was the last piece of cheap, disgusting row of dissatisfaction. And yet it is not, nor will it ever be. I will most likely complain on my death bed. And should my last thought on this world not start with "I wish.." or "If only.." I might just die a happy man.
Yet death is so far away. Somehow I find myself slightly wishing it sometimes. Somehow when I feel cold and ashamed and I hide under my pillow pretending to be asleep, even if there's no one watching, I need to pretend, I need to fool myself. But I don't sleep, I wanna cry again and I can't, and instead, to be able to kill that nasty feeling inside me, I find myself having a flash thought of death.

I will not kill myself, for it cannot bring satisfaction. Instead, I will sleep. One day, I know I will. And while some people dream of conquering the world, with art, music or war, while other dream of simple lives as doctors, teachers or bankers with families, let them sleep in peace. I dream of sleeping, and even if I need to be a doctor, lawyer or salesman, or even if I need to save the world from destruction, I will do whatever it takes to sleep. Sleep like a baby, for a baby does not know ownership, he does not care what day it is, he only knows how to cry. And when he cries he gets fed, and he cries again and gets changed and sometimes he even cries himself to sleep, yet sleeps a deep resting sleep that I can't feel any more. I've learned what I am and what I own and I want to own myself, and when I cry, I need to feed myself. I might have to starve for a while, but all of us need some sort of motivation.
I can't push myself, only others can. How would one reach behind his back and push? I don't want to be pushed anyway. Instead I choose to dive into the unknown. I'll jump over the ridge into whatever is out there and the fear and pain and panic will settle and I will fight with all my might and if I make it I will come out a new man. Stronger, smarter. And I will no longer need pushing. No one will be able to push me.
And that's how people grow up. Pain is pain and joy is joy and all our brains work the same. Even if other people experience better or worse things than me, they cannot feel more or less. Feeling is feeling and that's it. This is the only comfort I allow myself. I am not alone, and like animals, we need to gather in packs, if we are going to survive the experience of growing up. I will sleep. I will sleep. I will sleep. What blessing to wake up when you can sleep. I. WILL. SLEEP!