Last night I dreamed of leaving.
It's been a long time since I've dreamed something like that.
But to be perfectly honest, I missed those dreams. I love every second of them.
The monotony of everyday life is good when you don't think, but after a while your mind begins to wonder away from the dishes you're washing or the program you've been watching at 7:oo every night for the past few months. Curling up on the couch for a while each night, making constant cups of piping hot tea and lazing by the computer chatting away to a few close friends.
As comforting as this is, shadows start to creep in. From the vent on my ceiling, through the space under my door. At first I believe it to be the world playing tricks on my eyes, perhaps just a scuff mark on the wall?
But then it covers the paper I read, the screen I glue my eyes to - and finally as I lie there at night waiting for sleep to come, these shadows enter my mind.
It started when I was reading about a journalist in Papua New Guinea who had to report the death of his two friends to the rest of the world. He came close to death himself a number of times. As I held the newspaper and read this fragmant of his life story, I thought wow fancy that - imagine being in an environment where the reality of death wasn't eating the wrong foods or being hit by a car. Where the reality of death is more like being chased by ten or so soldiers, guns blazing.
Interesting.
By the way, I have an exam today which I haven't studied for. I'll rely on the fact other people seem to think i'm smart so that I get a HD.
Alright, it's a deal.
See you there.
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