care face

When I sleep I have people I've never met before tell me how I'm feeling. 
They say, you're not really happy doing what you're doing.
I tell them, I'm screwed. Everything I love doing I hate when it's a job.
I hate how I feel when I'm just going through the motions.. just to get paid. 
The people in my dreams say, what are you waiting for?
I tell them, money. 
Money is what I'm waiting for.
And then I wake up and it's clear it is the most ridiculous thing. 
But.. is it?
I can fill out those forms too. 
But then, I can always wander into the darkness of the night and never return.
I can sit in the mountains of the world and get eaten by mosquitos and suffer from the horrible death of Dengue and starvation.
I wonder... 
You know how I know I'm partly crazy and partly sane? Partly alive?
Is that I don't care if I'm here or there, or dying or alive. 
It's all the fucking same. Everywhere. 
I don't care about anything. Everything is nothing. 
These words, they don't mean shit. 
How could it matter?
What is better than silence? Love. 
I love a lot. I can love in silence.