[sometimes i think that i'm bigger than the sound]
I’ve been having a series of weird dreams lately, all consisting of needing to evacuate to avoid an impeding disaster, natural or otherwise. Last night I strapped my essential belongings to my back and camped in a park in preparation of an oncoming tornado of biblical proportions. Those who stayed in stable shelter surely would die. My tent was my fortress.
I don’t like remembering my dreams. It seems like only the odd or awful stick with me.
I’m typing this up on Notepad at work to covertly cut and paste in my browser. Forgive the typos and misspellings, as I know they are plenty.
My job is really dull. I think I’ve been fully steeped into the world of crazy for too long and if someone isn’t threating their own life or mine, I start to get antsy. Lucky for me, the ISD administration building is located in the ghetto. I’m hassled almost daily by this tranny vagrant outside and homeless people stumble in to use the women’s bathroom by my office.
I’m going to die during a hostage situation or from a blood-borne disease.