I have this incredible ability to sleep 14-hours a day, everyday, with absolutely no idea how I do it, it's just a fact. Anyway, a lot of things go on during these 14 hours. I'll like to say that most of them are dandelion dreams, bouncing on magic mushrooms and making friends with green fairies who spray fairy dust on me so I can fly with them. (Fairies are evil by the way. If you ever see one please run.) But no, it's more like me failing my exams and being rejected by schools, and getting abandoned by my husband who planted a bomb in the building and being trapped there. And last night, my grandmother's head being bitten by the largest crocodile I've ever seen and me using all my petite might to get her out and keep her running. WTF is wrong with my dreams?!
I'm convinced now that depression is a bad bad thing that lingers on like a sored-eye unwanted guest. On some weeks, insomnia kills my sleep but on others, I spend three straight days in bed, well, dreaming about shit things like these. WHY oh why can't I have happy dreams?
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