8am on a Monday
27 August 2008 at 3:41 pm

My family, some of whom I recognized, some of whom I didn't, were all with us at a house we had rented in Oregon. I wanted them all to leave, I NEEDED them all to leave, but they were all there, packed into the house. I started physical fights to get them to leave, I tried to push and pull them out. I went into the bathroom, which was the housemate's bathroom at my current residence, and it was packed with girls. One was tweezing her eyebrows, and when I threatened her violently, she told me I needed to tweeze mine, too. Everyone I tried to evict from the house was assisted by someone else, either pulling them back in or pushing me away. They were laughing at my efforts.

Eventually, I was running, carrying something back to the house that would help, a piece of paper saying that the house was mine and that they had to leave, but my foot hurt, so I started swimming through the air, as I am wont to do when running in my sleep. I was frustrated and felt trapped until I was flying alone through the trail I had ridden my bike on many times in real life. I woke up hopeless and annoyed that I would never have my home as it was again.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.