23 February 2005
Loki Is Messing With Me On Behalf Of All Of Asgard; I Know It
Sleeping. Not. Dreaming. Not. Waking. Not. Dazed. Clarity. Not sleeping. Not waking. Always dreaming. There's no decipherable order. I can't believe it's wednesday afternoon. Just a little while ago it was monday morning. Why can I not just pick a time to sleep every day, and stick with it? It's always so fun at the time, but with some retrospect I always find my memories all confuddled and befused. I suppose the past is a very ethereal thing that really only exists in my mind anyway, but it would be nice if it had more structure. To order my past few days requires some causality calculations. How come I can't just recall the order of my workings, sleepings, and recreatings? Huh? Is it so much to ask? Not that anything will change after I write this. I'll still stay up all night. Get up too early the next day. Go to a class or two. Go hiking. Watch a movie. Sleep for far too much time at once. And repeat, just in a different order with different activities. The one thing I know with any certainty is that it's wednesday. It's five. It's burger night. It's about the one thing I do consistently every week without fail. It's kind of like the anchor that helps me figure out the order of happenings through friday whenever I think about them. So really, none of the above bullshit means anything. I'm going to get my carnivore on. Fuck it, let's go to Burger Night.