After I had that dream, I couldn’t help but to connect it to the influences around me. For example, the clouds must have been the cocaine I was always thinking about. John was the grass. He was suffocating me with a life I didn’t know about. He was the sharp weeds that could be potentially harming, not to mention, he did weed himself. I didn’t know if I should consider the dream a nightmare or an insight; but I should have foreshadowed. I started my morning routine at 5 am; after two hours of laying on my bed restlessly I came to the conclusion that it was time to be productive. Something about that morning seemed odd. It might have been the lack of sleep, but it might have been something else. They say every human is born with a brain that carries enough knowledge to save the world, but we can’t access all of it. They also say that along with knowledge, people carry a sixth sence; like knowing what’s to come. I like to think of myself as having that sixth sence; but on mornings like those the sixth sence feels more like a rock than an enlightenment. My glare felt heavy as did my charisma; it was a feeling I had only experienced two years ago when I saw my grandfather in a dream, my grandfather passed away seven years ago. I continued my morning with a bowl of cereal and a kid’s TV show; something about mornings made it acceptable for a teenager to watch animated animals help kids count to five.
June 11, 2011
Dianatomy
