cosmic_celery

This is what happened in my brain for the hour and a half I was asleep last night. I blame mertondingle for every word of it. Regrettably, there is no hot sex or mustaches.

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The day began like it usually does. I got up and went to school. I had to go to the library, and I headed there, but I felt preoccupied. my head was slightly dizzy and I felt strange, not good or bad, but a curious middle ground where I couldn't identify the emotion present. I did a few things at the library. I must have, though I don't remember the specifics of what they were. I probably checked something on the computer or flipped through a book in the mythology section. After all, I had class later.

As I left the library I carried a white blanket around my shoulders and it hung behind me like an odd cape. I found that if I pressed up from the ground i took to the air a little longer than gravity would normally strictly allow. A young woman in a group called for my attention and dazedly, I gave it. She told me, with a hint of awed reverence, that I looked like an angel. My white blanket billowed. I took another leap.

I was losing all sense of time and losing all form of concentration. Suddenly, it was dark out, and I knew I had to get to class. I was clearly late, and the space where I normally sit was blocked. The four seat table had been pushed up against the one behind it in my particular corner, and the chair removed. This puzzled me, and I asked the guy sitting across from the seat to pull the table back. He frowned at me and refused. Then, I asked the girl sitting next to him. She acquiesced and nudged him into pulling the table back so I could sit down in my regular spot.

I reached down into my bag and retrieved the paper I'd written for that day. My head was spinning. I straightened out the edges of the paper and realized that I'd never typed it. Wasn't that the reason I'd gone to the library? Obviously I'd forgotten. The world around me took on a fuzzy sort of glow, but not like in the movies when they've got a nylon over the camera to make things seem romantic.

The teacher said something about the report needing to be typed. I infer this, because I heard the word "type" and she had nodded at my paper apologetically. I offered in stumbled words that I could go type in now and turn it into her later that day. She seemed to agree.

I believe that I left the classroom then. As this point, things get much hazier. I think that I was much too overwhelmed with the virus to deal much with cataloging my experiences in my own mind. I began to speak in an English accent, and I'd found a black robe somewhere.

What I do remember of the rest is this:

A video store. I think I was desperate to get rid of whatever was afflicting me and stretching my mind beyond its normal parameters. I asked the corn-rowed young woman at the counter if they had any Chuck Norris movies. She seemed to be disturbed by me. Maybe I had started to seem godly by then, not merely angelic. I left without any movies (I assume so, since I don't have any now, nor remember watching any) and shook her hand with a tentacle. I'm not sure when my hand became a tentacle, but it was only temporary. I considered that that may be how the virus was spread. I remembered shaking hands with a young English fellow only that morning. I shuddered to think of her future, but the world of my experience was too hazy to do anything for her.

I found myself...somewhere. I do not know where the somewhere is, but it was dark out. I don't know how many days had passed since my journey to the movie store, but I still had on the black robe. Now, I was joined by another figure in similar apparel. I never saw his face, but he became somewhat of an adversary to me. We stood atop a building striking dramatic poses. I had an urge to go higher...and I could. There was a hill ahead of us, and a line of dumpsters along its side. After each of my gravity defying jumps, he followed, determined to best me.

When we reached the top of the hill, a black cloud made up of bodies descended on us like a mass of ninjas filmed in slow motion. Every one of them landed, soft footed on the sparse hilltop. I realized that this was only the beginning of my journey.

I don't remember anymore, if there was any. Maybe by then my mind was too expansive to remember anything at all.

All I know was that I found myself back in my bed this morning. I assume the virus has run its course.

The last week or so I've had this strong desire to chop off my below-shoulder length hair into a short bob that's high in the back. I'm also aware that I look ridiculous and boyish with short hair.

Must be a stress thing.