Disclaimer: See Prologue.
I flopped into the chair in front of your desk, swinging my legs up to
hang over the other arm of it.
" Just so you know, I didn't dream last night. And even if I had, I
wouldn't be telling you, you strange little man." I said, droning on and on
until you told me to stop.
I did, closing my eyes against the sharp glare of the light that
streamed through the windows. It was true, I didn't have any dreams. I was
on a sugar and weed high, stoned and hyper ot the point where I could see
little bunnies putting flowers on my Beatles posters, covering up George's
beautiful face, so I screamed at them.
Then I went and chatted with random people, but I did fall asleep
later. There was no dream, just an unending feeling of dark, falling, and
being unreal. Guess I need to stop eating Pixie sticks before bed, huh?
Since we're supposed to spend 15 minutes together to sort out the
problems that my dreams are trying to tell me that I have, I guess I just
sit here and stare out the window, watching Starbucks run away from Raven.
Nothing's ever the same for any moment, but with Starbucks, George and then
rest of them, at least its fun for a little while.