This morning I told Mike I want to be Saved. He said he'd put his mattress under my balcony, and I could jump down. I told him that's not what I meant. He said he'd save me. I said, “what about Jesus?” Mike replied, “that guy doesn't have to get involved.”
Last night I dreamed I learned how to cross my eyes. Everything was all googily. I showed Mike.
“To dream that you have crossed eyes, denotes that you are not seeing straight with regards to some situation. You may be getting your facts mixed up.”
-dreammoods.com
After a touch of alcohol and a dab of philosophical babbling (and fears of a haunted room), Mike asked if I wanted to sleep in his room Friday night. “I'm going to bed, you coming with?”
I've lost the grip on reality I never had.
Last night I tried to finish my homework but fell asleep on the floor instead. This morning I found this on the floor:
I don't remember writing that.
I have 19 hours to finish revising three memoirs and one research report pseudo-disaster. Sleep and a dinner party are in there somewhere.
Eight days to lose my mind in thought and vodka.