Hunger for Life

by Andy Marr

But that wasn’t life. That was a dream. The real world was nasty. It was cruel. It didn’t care about happy endings or the way things should be. There was no such thing as saints or heroes. In the real world, bad things happened. Battles were lost. Pain was everywhere. It was a nightmare. It was an endless fucking nightmare.

I’ve never understood people who sleep easily. How do they ever manage to clear their brain of its messiness, to sweep all the day’s nagging doubts and worries far enough aside to allow space for a full eight hours of untroubled rest?