Guys... I think I'm dying. Everyday, I sleep a little longer. Eventually, I'm just not gonna wake up. Kidding, of course. Still, I've been sleeping WAY too much these days. I can't explain what's making me so tired, either. Maybe I need iron. I have been craving liver, actually. Ew to you too. I like it. With onions, grits, and bacon, mama's style. Whee. The only time I ever really eat well is host family Sundays. During the week I'm just like, nyeh. Sometimes it's because I'm depressed. Most of the time it's because I'm SO finicky. I like that word.
Probably due to the excess of sleep, I've had dreams for the past few nights. The first that I can remember is that I (and other people who I recognized in the dream but can't remember now) were traveling through the city at night. For some reason our academic chair, who happens to be from Philly, was in the dream. Anyways, we were traveling in the alley ways, dodging and smacking away dynamite that was thrown at us from the rooftops of apartment buildings. The setting is recurring, though I don't remember it being that dark last time. What the heck is all that supposed to mean? Then I think the other night I had this dream that I was in my bedroom (I don't know which one - might have been my "dream" bedroom) and my dad was in there with a broom in hand. Then he said something like, "There's something under your bed," and started fishing under my bed with the broom. This HUGE gigantic rat-like thing comes out, snarling and growling and my dad picks it up with his bare hand. The thing is jerking its head around, trying to nip his hand, and he throws it out of the window. It crashes into a window on the adjacent wall and breaks it, bouncing down to the below. Freaky. WTF does that mean? The dream continued with a series of those rat creatures, but I can't remember much else. Maybe it has something to do with the annyoing squirells that scratch at our roof every once and a while. None of my dreams ever make sense. Except with recent events, I might have a hunch about what it could mean. Or maybe not. Although it's troublesome trying to think of what these dreams mean (though really all they are is your brain interpreting things or something.) I enjoy having dreams. They're interesting.
Somethings still wrong with me. I think I'm reaching that reclusive stage again. Hopefully it'll pass soon. Well, I'm off, probably to draw. Ta-ta.
