The sea is just a wetter version of the sky

Funny. The day does revolve around me. Like I'm king (in a world with no responsibilities because normal kings get up really early with lots of responsibilities) my alarm and the world let's me sleep for as long as I want. Now lately I've been combating that. Come on. Getting up post noon (also called afternoon to squares) sounds cool for a while, but eventually you realize you'd have to stay up to 6am to get in all the hours that the day owes you. I didn't have this problem before. A job and school made sure that I was working early or tired enough to go to bed by 2am. How much sleep does my body need and how much does it want. It's a glutton. It's even taken to trick me in my dreams or leave me so confused I have no better response than to fall back to sleep after I stop that annoying sound. 

I'll jump more into the ways my mind plays tricks--well, on itself really. Subconscious me and conscious me are at a life long batter. Subconscious me always wants more time, and I've always had something I had to do. But now I want to get up early (early for me, probably not for you). My dreams as of late have become more and more complex. And not just space opera-ey epics, but closer to reality. Sometimes believable, sometimes not. But my mind has a new weapon, or it has just discovered a weapon. Rarely in my past, dreams planted false memories to make the dream believable. I've even thought that the logical part of my brain makes up the memories to compromise with the subconscious dreams. But that just means that the subconscious has gotten to the logical part of my brain which puts it on that side of the war. 

Not too many fake memories before a month ago. Some had gone undiscovered for years. Crazy. Things that I wouldn't normally think about but made up who I am weren't even real. Nothing too crazy. But this last month has seen a huge increase. Almost every dream has them. The dreams usually aren't the normal dream either. They are these huge sprawling stories with landscapes bigger and more detailed than George Lucas could hire a team to design and use to ruin a classic movie. Sometimes the memories have nothing to do with the dream, so that could be my subconscious just saying, "Fuck you." Or it could be from a dream that I don't remember. 

It can take up to an hour to figure out what was planted when I wake up. But it leaves the rest of the day feeling really weird and unbelievable. It makes for an annoying morning at dissecting the coolness out of my reality. But my reality is still cool. Really.

Horrorscope, time to shine:

As saturn aligns you'll realize that you're in the matrix. Don't jump off the roof though. You're not unplugged and don't know how to do it.

Or Jupiter will show you that it's a government conspiracy that you've lived an awesome life--too awesome--and now your memory has to be erased because other people will be jealous only it didn't work all the way and memories sneak back through dreams.

I wonder if anyone takes me seriously. Dumpster fodder.

With only two settings: fast and whoa, what was that;

LQ

Bumble, had a rumble, then I fumbled down the stairs

Life. It's all about relaxing. Either the act of or the things that get in the way. For some people relaxing comes naturally. The younger, generally the easier. But other people just get too worked up over the simple things and they become burdened by so many small choices that they feel trapped.

Most of what people do is so that they can finally relax one day. I don't want to have to be 75 with both hips replaced and all the other joints going out. Why wait? I'm not saying quit your job and go buy a hammock. Well, I can of am saying that. Get the kind that is all cloth. The intertwined rope ones hurt if you lay on it without a shirt. But really. The job. Drop it. And let me have it. Obviously you want to relax more than go to work. So I decide we switch. And you should believe me. I'm better at doing the math than you.

I'm a little pissed at automobile racing. I think it is one of the biggest culprits for all the wrong things that happen on the roads. First. I don't condone the use of all the fuel. What are you doing with it? Going in circles. But you say, "Oh but they are going really fast." To that I say fuck that. Speed up people running. Not only are the participants generally fair, but it doesn't stress on people that they have to get somewhere the fastest that they can. Nascar has to be one of the worst. The drivers hit each others cars and pit crew when they are stopping in. That's just stupid. This brings me to my next point. Okay, so maybe, maybe, automobile racing is a sport, a boring one, but the drivers definitely aren't athletes. Do they train by sitting in a chair all day?

Ladies and gentlemen, eyes on that prize,
the horrorscope:

It'll be brilliantly beautiful outside (but what does that actually mean? You could say that about anything). Your energy will hum (again man, you aren't actually saying anything concrete). Something will go right for you today (now that's just vague). But don't go to the bank today, because there will be a robbery and you'll by the hostage he takes home, and it turns out that he's also a murderer, so you'll be done for sure and kept in a freezer in pieces for a while (now that's more like it: concrete).

Well that's it for now. I'll keep my eyes open for something else to piss me off. Until then, folks. Major Mediocre is signing off. Just hope the next blog isn't about you...

threats are commonplace to me,
LQ