Dream 9/4/2017
Back with Liberty. It's a wonder, even after I've been gone for so long, it still hasn't left me. My memories have been replaced, however, with my nightly dreams. Hello fourth wall.
I walk into class. My teacher is Canadian. I can't remember her name. I look around the room. Everyone is writing in their notebooks. They write a verse and draw a picture. I have no idea what the assignment is but I guess I better look like I am busy. I rip out my notebook and start drawing a picture of E.T.. I have to say, the picture is actually not bad. I never thought of myself as artistic.
I look up from my drawing and realize that most people have left the class. The bell hasn't rung. I instantly know that people are roaming the hallways, skipping class.
In another class now. The teacher calls up one of my fellow classmates, Roman Reigns. In my mind, I know that he is hated, but I feel like being a troll. I start chanting, "Roman! Roman! Roman! Roman!" Others in the class join in. Several other wrestlers have come today to put on a show.
I go to the gym and sit down but everyone in the gym scatters elsewhere. Some run outside. I follow. When I exit the building, I observe a line of hot rod cars in the parking lot. They are the only cars that I see. The wrestlers are going to race them later.
I've lost my jacket. It is a beige coat. I must've left it in class. I return to class where a substitute teacher starts talking my ear off. I ask if my coat is in here. I grab one but it isn't mine.
I walk down to where the kids used to be served lunches. I stand in the doorway for a moment. I look around. I've been away for so long. So many years. This school used to be my life. Everyday I would walk it's halls. I would learn it's lessons. Now, I have nothing to do with it and it has nothing to do with me. I think to myself how could I be more involved? I could become a teacher. No. I don't want to be a teacher. I could become a janitor.
Here it comes again. My sadness. My depression. What did I do to deserve this. Day in and day out it comes to visit me. It seems to be my most loyal companion these days.
I look at a yellow sign covered in laminate. It looks old. I wonder if my mom was the person who posted it years ago. If she posted it, then I had to be in 6th grade. No. 5th grade. Maybe 4th. That seems to be about the right time. Dream ends.
I wake up
Back with Liberty. It's a wonder, even after I've been gone for so long, it still hasn't left me. My memories have been replaced, however, with my nightly dreams. Hello fourth wall.
I walk into class. My teacher is Canadian. I can't remember her name. I look around the room. Everyone is writing in their notebooks. They write a verse and draw a picture. I have no idea what the assignment is but I guess I better look like I am busy. I rip out my notebook and start drawing a picture of E.T.. I have to say, the picture is actually not bad. I never thought of myself as artistic.
I look up from my drawing and realize that most people have left the class. The bell hasn't rung. I instantly know that people are roaming the hallways, skipping class.
In another class now. The teacher calls up one of my fellow classmates, Roman Reigns. In my mind, I know that he is hated, but I feel like being a troll. I start chanting, "Roman! Roman! Roman! Roman!" Others in the class join in. Several other wrestlers have come today to put on a show.
I go to the gym and sit down but everyone in the gym scatters elsewhere. Some run outside. I follow. When I exit the building, I observe a line of hot rod cars in the parking lot. They are the only cars that I see. The wrestlers are going to race them later.
I've lost my jacket. It is a beige coat. I must've left it in class. I return to class where a substitute teacher starts talking my ear off. I ask if my coat is in here. I grab one but it isn't mine.
I walk down to where the kids used to be served lunches. I stand in the doorway for a moment. I look around. I've been away for so long. So many years. This school used to be my life. Everyday I would walk it's halls. I would learn it's lessons. Now, I have nothing to do with it and it has nothing to do with me. I think to myself how could I be more involved? I could become a teacher. No. I don't want to be a teacher. I could become a janitor.
Here it comes again. My sadness. My depression. What did I do to deserve this. Day in and day out it comes to visit me. It seems to be my most loyal companion these days.
I look at a yellow sign covered in laminate. It looks old. I wonder if my mom was the person who posted it years ago. If she posted it, then I had to be in 6th grade. No. 5th grade. Maybe 4th. That seems to be about the right time. Dream ends.
I wake up
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