You May Say I’m a Dreamer

And you would be correct. Because amidst this nightmare that is being a student during finals season, I fight my way down through the Adderall frenzy and force myself into believing some pretty awesome lies.

For example, when I woke up this morning, I had myself believing for a full minute that I was not in my smelly room cuddling with my cat. No, I was at a 5 star hotel cuddling with James Franco and my cat. Any minute my bottle of wine was going to poof onto my solid gold nightstand, and I would stand up to find that I had lost 15 pounds over night.

Then I opened my eyes and realized the horror instantly.

Hungover, bloated from 2 a.m. Taco Bell, and a cat on my face (who, by the way, must have slept in his litter box or something, because he straight up smelled like shit).

But that’s not even the worst of it. Once the shock of slamming back to planet Earth wore off, I remembered this thing I have to do today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, where I stare at a computer screen for like, 15 straight hours.

So, I accepted like, 8 gallons of Dr Pepper as a substitute for wine, and searched the Internet for cardboard cut-outs of James Franco. (No luck).

And now, my tiny corner of the Internet is a last resort because the real world has nothing left to distract me. With that, I have to go submerge myself in knowledge. This should be illegal. Brain rape. This knowledge is unwelcome. This knowledge is not consensual. Oh, hell.

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About cheekystars123

I write what I know. I don't know a lot. But I know how to put thoughts into words. These are my thoughts; constantly contradicting themselves, swinging between the pendulum of extremes, never censored. I'm not as sane as my friends think I am, but I'm not as psychotic as I convey myself anonymously. So what does that make me? A rare breed? I like to think so. But I'm probably not as interesting as I'd like to believe. Aside from that, I tend to be a sarcastic bitch with rage problems. Don't believe a word I say, I'm probably definitely lying about most of it to make myself seem more interesting.
This entry was posted in Anger, Annoying, Cats, Depression, Education, Happiness, Observations, People, Pets and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to You May Say I’m a Dreamer

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