Writing things about the people in your head while you think your sleeping is not a good thing
9/19/07
On The Bus
I have weird thoughts in the morning. Like their deep probably have meaning but it’s too early and they make no sense.
In My Head
“Yawn.” said a little girl with long black hair in two ponytails at her neck and bangs, and wearing a red and black gothic Lolita outfit, walking toward white pillow on the floor. “Arterioles, Why are you so sleepy lately? Your normally wide awake in the mornings.” said a more musically voice coming from a young adult lady with blackish red hair in a sloppy bun with black chopsticks, ice gray eyes, and wearing a geisha-looking silver kimono. She walked in, picked up little Arterioles and sat on the red pillow next to the white one. Arterioles grumpily wiggled out of the lady’s arms, on to her pillow and said “Soday in the mornings make me sweapy, Basiliar.” “Than why not go to sleep?” Basiliar laughed. Arterioles mumbled “No, not in till I make Stapes go bye bye.” Basiliar laughed loud, “You can’t do that.” “Yawn, why not?” Arterioles whispered, her eyelids drooping over her bright green eyes. Basiliar picked her up and whispered “Because we are her, little one.”
Bus Still
I’m awake! I like the headband around my ponytail, it has a bow. At school! Bye!
School, 3rd Block, Clinic
I’ve got a bad