I’m getting bored again. I’m digging myself another rut. My body is sore and tired. I can feel the weights pressing down on me. I’m not worried that this feeling will last, but that doesn’t really matter since it hasn’t passed yet. The sky is blue, the air is warm, I won my race, and love is in the air, but I stay in bed 3 extra hours because I’m bored.

Shenanigans, skulduggery and just plain stupidity.

How do I initiate a lucid dream?
All night last night I was stuck in situations I did not want to be in, and I would have loved to be able to just turn around in my dream and run away.
I’m tired of Shaq sending me on impossible errands, and stupid girls sitting in the back of my car asking me for rides.
Anyone have a clue? I’m tired of shittty dreams that don’t work out in my favor, they are full of anxiety, and they do not make for good restful sleep.
How do I take control of my nights?

How is it that I’ve reimprinted myself to skim over the intended meaning of a statement and see right through to its potential?

I no longer take anything at face value, I’m always digging for a deeper meaning; I want to break functional fixedness and exploit new ways of using old tools.

Ideally this is a gift worth using, but mostly it just gets me into trouble. When someone tells me a law, I test every case for potential to work around the law.

For once I want to be sucked in and go with the flow. I don’t want to feel like I’m on the outside looking in; I want to glide through the middle of the stream.

Tomorrow I’ll write a post about the dangers of getting sucked it, but for now I just want to feel the power of society; I want to feel the camaraderie of equally ignorant swimmers.

So how’m I doing?

I was recalling my earliest memories and stumbled upon something. The first clear memory I have coincides with the first time I had to make the choice. It includes me and my mother, and we went to quante single story building. Inside I was greated like I belonged there even though I knew not where I was. The only validating feature of the situation was my mother. A very nice lady seats me and my mother at a table and continues to instruct us on how to draw a parrot. We drew a pretty spectacular parrot and then my mother got up to go to the bathroom. I continued to work on the parrot, and then wondered where my mother could be. She didn’t come back. As you might have guessed, this was my intoduction to the institution of education.
I had a choice. I could have ripped up the parrot and stormed out of the door, but I decided to transfer my trust from my mother to the replacement with only a small internal struggle. It’s the day I conformed.