escalate
I'm hoping your willing to prove me wrong
because I'm more than ready
to do the same for you.
But only if you want to.
Last night not even the television's hypnotics were enough to keep me from crashing--hard--on the couch, not even close to the midnight hour. I think I remember seeing the clock read 3:30am... then 4:45am... it was hard to say for sure with the lights still on shining in my sleepy ass eyes. My subconscious went on some crazy tilt too. At one point, I was smoking a cigarette thinking, "I'm supposed to hold it in for a little bit?" Another moment I was peeling one my overripe bananas from Costco, half black from sitting in the plastic too long. I took a bite and had a mouthful of mushy, sour, I-don't-know-what-else-to-call-it. And then I broke a little more off near one of the mushier brown parts and there it was. A green effing worm. I'm glad that dream ended at that.
And more persistently, there was the constant undercurrent of the alternate reality you've been building for me, washing over my not quite so coherent thoughts, leaving nothing but wet sand. It's everywhere. I could use a cold shower to wash it all away, leaving nothing. Except me.
I'm getting cabin fever. Anyone have an antidote?
I'm hoping your willing to prove me wrong
because I'm more than ready
to do the same for you.
But only if you want to.
Last night not even the television's hypnotics were enough to keep me from crashing--hard--on the couch, not even close to the midnight hour. I think I remember seeing the clock read 3:30am... then 4:45am... it was hard to say for sure with the lights still on shining in my sleepy ass eyes. My subconscious went on some crazy tilt too. At one point, I was smoking a cigarette thinking, "I'm supposed to hold it in for a little bit?" Another moment I was peeling one my overripe bananas from Costco, half black from sitting in the plastic too long. I took a bite and had a mouthful of mushy, sour, I-don't-know-what-else-to-call-it. And then I broke a little more off near one of the mushier brown parts and there it was. A green effing worm. I'm glad that dream ended at that.
And more persistently, there was the constant undercurrent of the alternate reality you've been building for me, washing over my not quite so coherent thoughts, leaving nothing but wet sand. It's everywhere. I could use a cold shower to wash it all away, leaving nothing. Except me.
I'm getting cabin fever. Anyone have an antidote?
