some people just don't realize how important a bed is. it's very important.
it can be the worst bed in the world with the worst mattress / duvet / pillows...but a bed is a bed. and if you have your own bed, appreciate it.
in manchester, june 18 2011, i dreamt that i was swimming or wanted to swim badly in a chocolate lake. like the one in wonka's factory. and i think this had to do with a conversation i had with j bunten about him being akin to violet beuragarde. in a sense that he kept his gum for quite some time.
and over in high wycombe, prior to manchester, i dreamt about being followed by a monster. he was eyeing me outside my classroom and he stalked me when i was at the corridor of a building and he got his relatives to stalk me in a hospital lobby. very vivid that one.
and as of late, the dreams are just mere individual puzzle pieces and i'm supposed to guess what the picture really is. and to be honest, i don't really care.
recent turn of events are quite unimaginable.
and i'm still trying to figure out the whys and whats of them all.
and maybe i shouldn't. but it's difficult when the old self pays an impromptu visit.
listen to jeff hanson.
