billybillybilly

I had a beautifully fucked dream last night. This is the second time.

There was a kid I went to school with a million, perhaps a million and a half years ago. Gangly. Great descriptive word. Strange looking. That's another. Generally cheerful, much like a hopeless optimist, an accidental happiness about him. In the dream he's stumbling around and singing a song in a low voice because he knows he's about to die. Earlier on, in a part of the dream that I didn't dream, he had ingested some kind of poisonous substance. His insides were being torn apart, liquefied.

All he can do is sing and smile this pained look that I know is unbearable. Finally he collapses, no one, including myself, is willing or able to help him. Only watch him. That's all I can do.

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So how are you?

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Fuck. Sorry. That's all I've got today.

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This is an edit. I forgot a few things.

First, that I wasn't sure before, but wanted to publicly say thank you to benni for making me feel better. She dropped off some TheraFlu and a hilarious "get well/happy birthday/hope the menopause thing is treating you better" card with me when I desperately needed it. I'm sick right now, but feeling much better than I was, and it's all thanks to her.

Second, that fireball is the third coming of pussy11. I hope this serves as a testiment that I saw the similarity on this date, and that I may be proven right or wrong. This is purely out of speculation and curiousity. That is all.