a distorted reality...

sometimes I wonder about passing time. The cycles seem different, but that's because we have changed. Circumstance remians the same. Yet, I seem to feel more lucid. I seem to be more aware of what is happening around me, and just maybe, I find clever ways to call a growing sense of apathy something else.
See, you take all that frustration, all the apathy and lucidity, and one is left with either self medicating the casandra away, or taking the blue pill and jumping down the rabbit hole. Lately I have been doing one while wanting the other, and no matter what happens, one of us seems to be hanging from the seventeenth floor ledge.

Outside I can hear the sounds of the street. I guess the street nevel sleeps, and I am amazed at how well the yelling carries through the corridors of streets that make up downtown metropolis mad-cow oil alberta.

As for me, I haven't been up this late in a long time. The distorted reality of David Lynch is catching up to me, and I wonder how soon sleep will overtake even that.

Pretty soon I will wake up with not ever going to sleep, and I wonder what is next for me now. I thought about a trip down memory lane with Hunter S. Tompson. Time will tell that one.

I need to see about securing some tickets for the upcoming Snow Patrol and Athlete show. I will go just to drink beer and imagine I am back in Europe, far away from here.