I never really liked flying. Not because of the hassle really. Not at all.
I had a vivid dream about a year ago. It was one of the most vivid dreams I have ever had. It was a plane crash. I felt all of the emotions that you think you would feel when faced with the oncoming monolithic mountain of your end. I awoke in such utter grief, such utter gasping desperation, that I wonder if I hadn't broken through into someone else's consciousness and experienced their very death at that very moment, or maybe even into the past or future. And that is why every flight from then on has been just a little unsettling. Like jumping into a body of cold water. It comes fast, and it is shocking. And then it is all gone.
I'm Arizona bound.
Whoever sees and knows this, have a fantastic weekend.
-The Piece
Additionally:
I encountered an apparition of my own design last night as it stood silent in the middle of my room and watched me lay before it in terror. It was dark and tall and in the shape of a man. Yes, the halluciantions are still alive and well. I couldn't drown them out with the floods of attempted rationality. I am getting better at recognizing them now, and they fade rather quickly to the beat of my laboring heart. This time was different however. This time I was overwhelmed by the notion that the apparition was me.
This morning I awoke with the startling sensation of accidental Draino ingestion. It burned something fierce.
