Birds.

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…uhm…so…yeah.

Yo yo yiggidy-yo,

I’m just sneaking in a little blogging in the middle of studying. That’s going to be happening a lot now that I’m supposed to fill my time with more important things, although that is debatable, than surfing the interwebs. Anyways, so I had another one of those WTF-worthy dreams last night, and I thought I’d document it. I should probably make a “dream” category, since it seems to be a subject of importance. At least, to me. Okay, so here’s the dream.

I’m in this cubical room that’s entirely gray. The whole room is bare, except for the exceptionally old computer that I’m sitting in front of. I’m reading a book about the bird-apocalypse online, and suddenly, I’m inside of the book.

For some reason, I know that I have entered at a time before the actual apocalypse. I calmly walk into an empty storage room, but as soon as I’m inside, the door closes with a loud bang. I’m startled and start panicking. I frantically wiggle the doorknob, but the door is locked. I stand in the room, waiting for the apocalypse to happen, because apparently, I know when that is.

After a while, I know it’s over, and subsequently, I know that the door is unlocked. I go outside and people are running everywhere. I see families running to their cars and driving away, fleeing from something. I see hobos in corners, writing something on a billboards with blue paint. The hobos all have a blank stare and don’t look at the paper as they’re writing. I catch sight of a huge sign on a tall building, that says: “We will fly high.”

As I look up to the sky, I see that it’s nearly blackened by a huge horde of birds, some beelining towards the ground to attack the people. I instantly decide that I have to find a way out of the book, and the way to do that is to get in touch with reality – I need to remember sitting in front of that computer, reading the book.

For some reason, I can’t do this, and I start getting frustrated. That’s when Jacob Black walks past me, he has a determined stare and, obviously, a certain goal. Apparently, we have something (romantically?) together, because I shout his name, trying to get his attention. He continues walking. Then I realize that I just need to say it as it is (whatever it is), and in a matter-of-fact tone, I say: “I need you to kiss me.” He stops and comes to me. We kiss. A lot. With tongue. After that I kiss him on the cheek as a silent thanks and tell him to be careful. He bitterly says “It’s all his fault.” (whoever he is), and reluctantly promises to hurry back. Then a light flashes before my eyes and…I wake up.

Okay, this is another dream I don’t know what to say to. It’s obviously inspired, if I can even call it that, by some book I read about on Wikipedia that’s about the apocalypse, by Eclipse, and by a bunch of other stuff I can’t think of. On the up-side, I got to first base. Which has never happened before in a dream. Or rather, has never happened before period. I have strange dreams when I’m ill. Alright, I have strange dreams period.

Birds. Feathers. Red hair. Freckles.

I’ve gotten a few new obsessions lately. Insert nervous giggle here. Oh, I’m so silly. Anyways, I guess I’ll have to explain this a bit further. Not because you readers don’t understand, because you don’t exist, but because I’ll probably forget these inane thoughts in a while. God forbid. Right.

Birds. Birds are free. They can at any time just spread their wings and fly. Birds soar in the sky, looking down at us stupid people struggling with our lives. Birds don’t understand it though, they don’t have to be blackened by the bad things in the world, because that doesn’t exist to them. All they have to think about is survival. Wings spread, they see the beauty of the world clear as day, while we struggle. Birds enjoy the heat of the sun and the fresh breeze, and when the cold winter comes, bearing gifts of sadness and pain, they just go away. They go to a place where it isn’t cold, and wait for better days to come. Then they go back home and continue soaring in the big, blue sky as always.

Feathers. Light as a feather. That’s how I want to feel. I don’t want to feel burdened by myself, I want to enjoy life and have no problems. I want to be silly. I want to be childish. To feel light-headed. To feel light-hearted. Like I have no worries. Like I’m on top of the world. Light as a feather. Well, to be honest, the biggest part of this obsession stems from the fact that I find feathers extremely aesthetically pleasing. Feathers are pretty. It all started with me doodling and eventually, I drew a feather. Not very skilled, but nice all the same. Soon, I began to draw them everywhere. Yeah, so feathers are kinda following me now.

Red hair. Freckles. Although I absolutely adore these physical traits in themselves, I’m kinda referring to a certain person that possesses them. A boy. Yes, another boy. He’s a ginger, but it’s as if his hair shifts from day to day. The shades constantly change. Utterly fascinating. He’s interesting. He skates, paints, photographs and listens to old school hiphop. These are the things I’ve learned about him from other people. He has a kickass sense of style. This is something I’ve found out by just looking at him. He is immensely attractive. This is what my opinion is, in the beginning being the absolute contrary, but gradually altering with every time I see him. He doesn’t talk much, but seems very sweet. This is the conclusion I’ve come to after many hours of  observations and obsessive thinking. He has a certain air about him. He’s different. He interesting and gives me something to keep my mind occupied with while the dull hours in school drag on. Sometimes, I find myself being lulled into a state of numbness during the most tiring times, only to look to the side and see him staring blankly in front of him. Seemingly being very interested in the blank, white wall, but actually being somewhere else entirely.