3am thoughts

As you can probably tell, I've made some changes to the workplace. They are not done, but your approval means the world to me, so I would quite like some feedback.

We are only like a week into summer and I've already come to some huge realizations about life, love, faith, hair colour. It's been a big week. I also have some more big plans that I need to set work on. They all have to do with sitting right here.

I need to draw. I haven't in what seems like forever. I'm going to make some cool graphics and hang them up. I've got them all planned in my head... let's see how they turn out. It probably won't go as well as it does in my head. Nothing seems to.

I also need to write more Hearts & Dog-Tags. I haven't forgotten about it, I just haven't had an idea yet to base the next one on. That should happen soon though.

I'm going to dye my hair. I don't know when, but it is going to happen. I'm not going to, but I've secretly always wanted to go blonde. That very well might go against all my feminist ways, but maybe it is true, maybe blondes do have more fun. Then I need some cool contacts and we are all set. Maybe some breast implants too.

Speaking of fake tits, I saw that movie Bad Teacher, well I guess, yesterday. It had a lot more boobs in it then expected. It was an okay movie though, pretty funny.

I really don't want to go to sleep. Tonight is different. It's like a fear. It's like giving up, but I don't know why. I know that sleep will solve some of my upfront problems, but I can't do it. I cannot bring myself to that. Maybe this is what a mental breakdown feels like. It does not feel that great.

I always pictured my mental breakdown to be when my husband, Astronaut Mike Dexter, tells me that he has a man friend up in space, leaving me, our child and two dogs on Earth. By this time the child has already moved away and the dogs have found people that don't hesitate when people food is involved. So, there I am, alone, looking up at he sky, screaming why. That's when the neighbors would call the police and the police would take me to a nice mental hospital where I can bounce peacefully in the rubber room. It's a very nice chain reaction.

But tonight, I'm sitting here, refusing to sleep, head exploding, various others, writing a blog about some shit. It's nice to have a blog. It's nice to let it out sometimes. Even if you're perceived as crazy.

If I could sign a document with Satan that says five strangers would die, but I would never have to sleep again, I would do it. As long as no sleep deprived symptoms ever show.

I don't know what to do anymore. I guess sometimes you have to say, "fuck it," and move on. The sun always rises, no matter how much you believe it to be our last day. The sun will not fail us. The moon can be an unreliable bastard though.

I have a horrible feeling that even when I do decided to get some sleep, I will not be able to. I'm trapped with my own thoughts sometimes. I hate that feeling, that realization of, "Oh, I guess I'm not falling asleep," because it's like, why the fuck not? I'm doing everything right. What do I do now? Nothing. You just stay awake and try to think about other things. My delusional mind makes that pretty simple, but that makes sleep come no faster.

I remember when I used to be scared of the things outside that could come attack me while I'm sleeping. How freaked out I would get over that little rustling sound or creak in the floor. A part of me welcomes it now, because I'm scared of the things inside now. Wondering thoughts, hopes, dreams.

Realization.