Nothing to me about my life

I had a dream that my room mate Jennifer was a 14 year-old goth. Or, that was dressed that way but was still a 26 year-old lady. She ran up to me in our kitchen adn said "Max! Oh my god! Morrissey just died! He just died of a heart attack!" In the dream we weren't sad about Morrissey dying, but we were sad because of how annoying everyone was going to be. We dreaded the inevitable collective whining of more than a few generations (It reminded me of when Elliott Smith died and everyone still can't shut up about it). In the dream we felt guilty for being so callous.

I woke up and the entire back of both of my legs are covered in very painful spider bites.

And the living is easy.

No comments: