Thursday, April 16, 2009

Are you hiding in a basement, mixin' up the medicine? Every April Fool's I say your name. (Day 134)

God, my knee is killing me. Absolutely killing me.

So last night something interesting happened to me. I don't sleep well very often, ever. I was sitting here participating in a heavily heated Twitter War with my friend Christina, when I started to nod off. I looked at the time, and it was 7:45pm. I decided, maybe I'll take a little nap. I don't see why not!

I go an lay down. The next thing I know, I'm stretching and I glance at my alarm clock. 12:30 today. I've never slept that long without anything, and most certainly without the aide of chemicals. I felt refreshed (though slightly sluggish) but yeah...I can't believe I slept that long.

The dreams I had were really weird. I kept seeing this kid named Justin Warren, and he looked exactly how I had remembered him in grade school. We weren't particularly the closest people, but we were decent friends.

He was definitely his own man, though. Even back then, he just did his own thing and didn't worry in the very least how people would ever perceive him. I always really admired that about him.

But in this dream, he and I were in High School. I never saw him again after we graduated the 8th grade. Once in a while I'll wonder whatever happened to that kid, and I guess today is gonna be one of those days.

It seems like those days are a blur and they never actually happened. Most of my past feels like it didn't happen, it's just some movie I fell asleep while watching, and I could hear everything while sleeping and they melded with my dreams. I did that with Stripes once--crazy.

But like...I don't know. I don't want to be concerned with the past anymore. Anything that happened before right this very moment, I have no problem letting stay buried. Even the good stuff, cause that'd hurt too much to relive, I think.

I don't want to think about yesterday, or last week. I don't want to be that person that lives in the past completely, or even thinks about it at all, actually. What's the fucking point? You're blowing a perfectly good opportunity to enjoy the here and now, and you're ruining it by thinking of stuff that happened when you were twelve.

I don't know, is this making any sense?

-Until tomorrow.

1 comment:

Velvet said...

Twitter war? That's what's not making sense.