Makes me wonder, is it me or does it seem like everything’s too scattered?

I wake up and only feel the air, I realize the sleep wasn’t as relaxing as I imagined. I look around, eyes still adjusting to the lights.

I recall the dream or nightmare that had just overwhelmed the emptiness of circumstance but then become conscious that the circumstance is what it will always be; not a dream nor a nightmare, but empty.

When I’m looking for that warm touch because of my current state but I feel that I’ve got nothing to hold on to, I just assume that everything’s alright and there’s nothing to worry about.

I bury fleeting thoughts in order to conceal the condition of actuality, that I’m not sure of what’s to come but still keep a sappy face intact in order cover the hopeless truth: That I just woke up and my blanket fell off the bed.