dear blog of interest diary,
i am sure this post will interest no one except me. after all, technically i am the only one i started out blogging for anyway, so i'll prolly get off on it again someday. that stupid bird started chirping at 5:09 this morning. i know it was the same bird too, because i recognized its chirp. that mother fucker. then i woke up at 6:40, like i have for the last fucking six and a half years, and then again at 7:14 when my alarm rang to get prince harry up for school. i think mornings prolly are the hardest part of the day for me- the time when my heart and my mind are in conflict the most. on top of that and dealing with the premises of some of my fading dreams of the night before- some of which don't seem to want to fade, it can be a treacherous beginning to a frightful day. but over the past year and a half, i must say, it has gotten much easier. the sudden onset of hate has helped. the three singing and dancing chicken lamps in my dream were very symbolic to me last night- and the drunken man who owned them- equally as symbolic. i would have never expected the blue rooster lamp to come to life and swing around and almost peck me in the eye- especially singing as loudly as it was, and if i ever got the chance to buy a lamp that looked even remotely close to what that table lamp or any of the others looked like in my dream, believe me- i would.
i am sure this post will interest no one except me. after all, technically i am the only one i started out blogging for anyway, so i'll prolly get off on it again someday. that stupid bird started chirping at 5:09 this morning. i know it was the same bird too, because i recognized its chirp. that mother fucker. then i woke up at 6:40, like i have for the last fucking six and a half years, and then again at 7:14 when my alarm rang to get prince harry up for school. i think mornings prolly are the hardest part of the day for me- the time when my heart and my mind are in conflict the most. on top of that and dealing with the premises of some of my fading dreams of the night before- some of which don't seem to want to fade, it can be a treacherous beginning to a frightful day. but over the past year and a half, i must say, it has gotten much easier. the sudden onset of hate has helped. the three singing and dancing chicken lamps in my dream were very symbolic to me last night- and the drunken man who owned them- equally as symbolic. i would have never expected the blue rooster lamp to come to life and swing around and almost peck me in the eye- especially singing as loudly as it was, and if i ever got the chance to buy a lamp that looked even remotely close to what that table lamp or any of the others looked like in my dream, believe me- i would.
