I've decided
to post an email i just sent to the bone section. Its a playful attempt to convey recent events, namely those of the night where i found the master sword. I am open to criticism, as this is designed to entertain its readers.
I've been suffering/enjoying mono for the past 2 or 3 weeks, which is why i haven't been anywhere. If anyone has a magical cure that could make me feel better, i'd gladly take it. If not, pass the gauze, because the kleenex isn't cutting it anymore.
However, to let everyone know I'm still alive, and hopefully to entertain you, i decided to write an email depicting events in my mind from approximately 12am last saturday, to about 5 am last sunday.
As you may or may not know, there was a Mos Def (and others) concert last saturday. The concert began at 12 noon and woke me up, and proceeded to 12 at night, keeping me up. My roommate had gone out of town for easter, and i was trying to get to sleep for the majority of the day, all without success. The previous night, my throat had decided i couldn't swallow (made life hard as a bone, but i persisted) and so i spent the entire night spitting into a trash can, and thus, not sleeping. That Saturday, I was so exhausted that i figured sleep had to come quickly.
I was wrong.
After the concert ended, a funny thing happened. I started talking to my computer. Not in the typing, online sense, but in the "god damn you computer, why won't you let me sleep!" sort of sense. And my computer was off. This persisted for about an hour, before i finally calmed down. And tried to sleep. Since it was finally quiet, and the computer was leaving me alone, i figured i would be able to nod off. Not so. Rather, i became convinced that 6 evil spirits were in my room, tormenting me, and not allowing me to sleep. They would poke me and move my covers, and move things, and generally piss the hell out of me.
Not knowing what to do, i did the best thing i could think of: Nothing. And with my nothing, nothing happened to stop the spirits. Around 2am, my body was so exhausted (note, i was not on any medication) that it decided to take care of things on its own. I woke up, on my floor, clutching my trombone case in my right hand, convinced i had found the master sword. And the best thing is, it worked. I fought the evil spirits, beat them with the master sword (or my trombone, but who's counting) and collapsed onto my bed, master sword on the ground beside me.
And then it hit me that i needed to pee. I think. This part i also don't remember. I had the notion that I had to go to the bathroom. So i stood up. And promptly collapsed on my floor because i couldn't focus enough to stand up. I struggled back into my bed, and figured, well fuck it, i'll just get to sleep. And so i did.
And when I woke up, i was right outside of my dorm room, in boxers and sandals, face down on the floor, with rugburns covering my face. I have no idea how i got myself there. Nor do i particularly care. It was cold, and my face hurt.
So with those events in mind, also know that I've convinced myself i'm Dwayne Jarrett, Mark Sanchez, and Darnell Bing (don't ask me about that one, i have no idea), have become a solid insomniac (i sleep less now than before mono), but still am, and will always be, a TMBone.
Fight the fuck on!
Link
I've been suffering/enjoying mono for the past 2 or 3 weeks, which is why i haven't been anywhere. If anyone has a magical cure that could make me feel better, i'd gladly take it. If not, pass the gauze, because the kleenex isn't cutting it anymore.
However, to let everyone know I'm still alive, and hopefully to entertain you, i decided to write an email depicting events in my mind from approximately 12am last saturday, to about 5 am last sunday.
As you may or may not know, there was a Mos Def (and others) concert last saturday. The concert began at 12 noon and woke me up, and proceeded to 12 at night, keeping me up. My roommate had gone out of town for easter, and i was trying to get to sleep for the majority of the day, all without success. The previous night, my throat had decided i couldn't swallow (made life hard as a bone, but i persisted) and so i spent the entire night spitting into a trash can, and thus, not sleeping. That Saturday, I was so exhausted that i figured sleep had to come quickly.
I was wrong.
After the concert ended, a funny thing happened. I started talking to my computer. Not in the typing, online sense, but in the "god damn you computer, why won't you let me sleep!" sort of sense. And my computer was off. This persisted for about an hour, before i finally calmed down. And tried to sleep. Since it was finally quiet, and the computer was leaving me alone, i figured i would be able to nod off. Not so. Rather, i became convinced that 6 evil spirits were in my room, tormenting me, and not allowing me to sleep. They would poke me and move my covers, and move things, and generally piss the hell out of me.
Not knowing what to do, i did the best thing i could think of: Nothing. And with my nothing, nothing happened to stop the spirits. Around 2am, my body was so exhausted (note, i was not on any medication) that it decided to take care of things on its own. I woke up, on my floor, clutching my trombone case in my right hand, convinced i had found the master sword. And the best thing is, it worked. I fought the evil spirits, beat them with the master sword (or my trombone, but who's counting) and collapsed onto my bed, master sword on the ground beside me.
And then it hit me that i needed to pee. I think. This part i also don't remember. I had the notion that I had to go to the bathroom. So i stood up. And promptly collapsed on my floor because i couldn't focus enough to stand up. I struggled back into my bed, and figured, well fuck it, i'll just get to sleep. And so i did.
And when I woke up, i was right outside of my dorm room, in boxers and sandals, face down on the floor, with rugburns covering my face. I have no idea how i got myself there. Nor do i particularly care. It was cold, and my face hurt.
So with those events in mind, also know that I've convinced myself i'm Dwayne Jarrett, Mark Sanchez, and Darnell Bing (don't ask me about that one, i have no idea), have become a solid insomniac (i sleep less now than before mono), but still am, and will always be, a TMBone.
Fight the fuck on!
Link