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Strange Afflictions
Odd things happen to me and I write them here. It's been pretty slow lately.
More daylight hallucinations this morning...I think.

My stomach problems have returned, although the pain and lack of appetite that accompany them seem wholly different from before, almost as if some other plague has stricken me. Needless to say, I've been having bad nights every so often. Last night was exceptional, however. Around 2 a.m., I woke with binding stomach pains, which I (ir)rationalized in my half-sleeping state was because of someone in IT doing testing on the new Content Manager-based programs...an odd by-product of my new office job, which has caused me to obsess over imaginary C# programming problems, rather than the calculus problems of school-times.

I was--at least, I think I was--without sleep for several hours. If I had fallen asleep, it was unremarkable, and short to say the least. Around 4:30 a.m., my weary body finally obliged. I was at my laptop, listening to some song which now escapes me, when I heard a clearing of the throat behind me. Fancying it to be myself, I cleared my throat as well, only to hear some unknown person clear their throat again. I turned to meet my unexpected guest when I felt jolted. My vision became blurry, and immediately I recognized that I had been dreaming. My ears were filled with a voice--a woman's voice, robotic in nature.

"Can you appreciate that this is a dream? Can you appreciate what your family has done for you? Can you appreciate..."

The voice continued to bombard me with similar inquiries, all the while I was trying to bring myself back into full consciousness. As my vision became less hazy, I could make out the image of the Zooey Deschanel poster hanging on the wall beside my bed. Perhaps I wasn't sleeping at this point. The voice continued to drone on, but I cared little for what it said, and instead focused on rationalizing the view in front of me. As it became clear, the invisible visitor's voice faded away. I looked around, scanning the poster up-and-down for irregularities (finding one would mean that I was still trapped in my own psyche, my dream world). There were none. As I recovered consciousness and rational thought, I had been staring at the poster the whole time--its view was dubiously something my sleepy brain could recreate in dreams.

I checked my clock: I'd been asleep for some nine minutes. Less than appreciative of the event, I turned on the television to clear my head of it...





 
 
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