Last night.
Last night I had a dream that I shaved my legs. I woke up distressed. Then I went back to sleep.
Last night I came to the conclusion that a lot of the stanger events in my life revolve around diced tomatos. No. I'm serious. Don't laugh. You need to smile first.
Last night I decided I knew exactly where I stood in this life and it was empowering until I realized that I'm in no position to assume I know anything.
Last night I was convinced I had gone crazy. That I was mentally ill and slowly rotting from the inside out. I smiled too much. So I knew I had some deeper problem. Or at least that's what everybody thought because I spoke my mind and smiled. There has to be something wrong with that. No one else seems to thing so. I would stare at one thing and keep staring and this would bring about little dots that would float around that I would follow with my eyes and as I was doing this I would have a seprete little exsistance that I would toy with in my head. I'd share my experience and get told to smoke less pot or something along those lines. And then I would get pissed off, insisting that I haven't been smoking pot, which is true, but then why should they believe me. I'm like the boy who cryed wolf. Except I'm a girl and I never said nothing about wolves.
Last night you could have convinced me that my name was Phillidalpha and I wouldn't have thought twice about it.
Last night I could have driven my fathers car right off a bridge and kept driving. And knowing my luck they'd replace the water with pillows. Btw, I can't drive. But if I could something like that was bound to happen.
Last night should get its own song. Or at least this journal entry. And as far as I'm concerned, it will.
Last night I came to the conclusion that a lot of the stanger events in my life revolve around diced tomatos. No. I'm serious. Don't laugh. You need to smile first.
Last night I decided I knew exactly where I stood in this life and it was empowering until I realized that I'm in no position to assume I know anything.
Last night I was convinced I had gone crazy. That I was mentally ill and slowly rotting from the inside out. I smiled too much. So I knew I had some deeper problem. Or at least that's what everybody thought because I spoke my mind and smiled. There has to be something wrong with that. No one else seems to thing so. I would stare at one thing and keep staring and this would bring about little dots that would float around that I would follow with my eyes and as I was doing this I would have a seprete little exsistance that I would toy with in my head. I'd share my experience and get told to smoke less pot or something along those lines. And then I would get pissed off, insisting that I haven't been smoking pot, which is true, but then why should they believe me. I'm like the boy who cryed wolf. Except I'm a girl and I never said nothing about wolves.
Last night you could have convinced me that my name was Phillidalpha and I wouldn't have thought twice about it.
Last night I could have driven my fathers car right off a bridge and kept driving. And knowing my luck they'd replace the water with pillows. Btw, I can't drive. But if I could something like that was bound to happen.
Last night should get its own song. Or at least this journal entry. And as far as I'm concerned, it will.