r.i.p.

I think last night I almost might have come pretty damn close to my own demise. It all started when I came to a crashing realization. Despite the duck tape, twine, super-glue, and schelack I've been using over the years, my heart has finally shattered into a million tiny crystalline pieces. Not big pieces, not even really big enough to sweep up with a broom and dustpan...no these pieces are so small that you would probably have to use a wet/dry shop-vac on them...so small that they could imbed themselves into your foot if you stepped on them and end up causing a nasty cellulitis-type infection, like the reef does on surfer's feet. So after that crushing, bitch-slap in the face by reality I just kind of laid there in bed. Like fifteen minutes later my body started to have this weird reaction. My tongue started to feel like it was swelling and cutting off my airway, my arms started to feel really huge and heavy, as if somebody had transplanted my arms with the arms of Popeye, and the rest of my body felt small and inconsequential. I almost started to hyperventilate and actually starting thinking to myself that I couldn't fall asleep because I knew I wouldn't wake up the next morning, but somehow I managed to calm myself down. I had to go look in the miror to make sure my tongue and arms were normal sized. After I went back to bed and finally fell asleep, I had these HORRIBLE dreams. In one, a woman was standing over me and getting ready to stab me with this huge ritualistic knife. In another, I was kidnapped and forced into slavery in this weird cult. And so on and so on. Having the feeling of impending doom totally sucks.