What's is left?

What's left when there is no rock that's hasn't been turned over. When
 there is no one else to blame. When you can no longer put the onus on
 yourself. What are we left with?

Dreams? Is that all that we can turn to. 

I lie there night after night with my eyes shut and the lights off. The
 silence of night is only interrupted by the occasional passing car and
 of couse by the conversations I have over and over in my head. 

The numbers on the clock grow greater and greater everytime I look
 over. 1,2,2:30,3:15. When oh when I pray will these dreams stop. When will
 I stop reliving the mistakes and rewriting the never was. 

Are these dreams or are they fantasies. Does it really matter. They
 deprive me of my beauty rest(as if I even need it really. "For an asian
 guy I'm fucking hot") (sorry another side note. I hate to hear that. I
 want to be attractive just for the sake of being attractive. Not to be qualified as asian. Not
 that I deny that I am. I guess I just want to be valued for me, not for
 my ethnic background). These dreams are incomprehensible. The past was
 ours and is lost forever. We only own the now and we have a chance at a
 later. So dwelling on what never was or what was unsatisfactory is
 useless, it only brings a deprivation of my rest. 

But what about tomorrow? We don't own that either I suppose, nor are we
 entitled to it. It may or it may not come. But now is here and we own
 it. So let's get on with things and make due with what we have in our
 hands. Right now. 

So tired. So worn. Maybe I'm not as special as they told me.