As I lay on my bed and try hard to make myself push to sleep, a question echoes in my head: "when you can't sleep, what do you worry about?" It's probably not an easy question to answer. Good thing I forgot my meds Lahore.
Someone died, someone who relates to my mother and she is gone far away to attend funeral. There wasn't much sorrow, or maybe none at all, since the deceased was expected to be dead long ago and who had his own fair share of psychological issues at later part of life.
Maybe dying younger is better, or your funeral becomes a party.
I guess my grandma is awake and she is going to check on me, so good night, dear departed.