It's past midnight and that means it's 2011. In truth it's only a day later and I hardly feel different. I've gone and ripped my socks apart. The smartwool argyle ones. They are a smokey gray with a light blue lattice complete with mauve and orange diamonds. It was their time to go. I had worn through the bottoms so that three of my toes stuck out of one of them. I could no longer slide in them. I've cut thumb-holes and I am currently wearing them as gloves. I'm simply not ready to let go. I'm not sure if this is symbolic or possibly a metaphor. I suspect it's simply because I love these socks.
I would recap this year, but alas I just can't remember what happened. I'm sure that I'm a different person due to the events of yesteryear, but I'll be damned if I can list them. Another reason why I'll never succeed as a stoner: I've already got no short-term and I'm spacey as is. I am shopping for vices though, and not the machine shop kind. Maybe chewing on pens? Too white glove I know. Whatever, I'm not going to force it.
Currently listening to the Tron Legacy Soundtrack on Grooveshark again. So good. Tangent. My dreams are getting stranger. I'm going to try and catalogue them. Perhaps I'll keep a small bedside journal for this sole purpose. Soul purpose? An excerpt from one of the stranger scenes transcended from my subconscious: An ear is being fused to a head that is not mine. I am soldering it to the head. Somehow the ear is connected to me and it's terrifying. I don't want to continue but I've started, and going back just doesn't seem like an option. Akin to Jumanji or shaving one's pubic hair. You're welcome. I could have linked both of those. The weird part is that I have a very good idea of what the dream is symbolizing. But that's personal.
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