Bright Lights

The days are getting better, much better.

Why should I feel bad?

I think it's a rather weird feeling that overcomes whenever I see my friends out drinking and going to parties, it's not that I criticize them, or put them down for drinking, I actually in some sense kind of become almost envious. Not exactly at the sense that I'm not drinking, but that the people I basically grew up with use drinking and partying to "bond" with one another... it's like, because I never partied with you or shared that ice cold beer with you, we hardly exchange words.

I realized not drinking, or going to parties have put me in a rather lonely state here in charlotte, if anything, possibly at any college I may attend I'll remain working, and school.

I don't understand why I get a little sad when I see 764 photos of people partying; it's not jealousy either. I'm not jealous that I don't party/drink as much as them, or that I'm not partying every night, or at all; it once again goes back to the whole idea how drinking and partying are such a social thing that I am lacking.

I have great sober friends, I have great friends in general... except three of them live two and a half hours away from me.

Don't rearrange what I've so clumsily put together; I don't miss drinking, or partying, I miss the social gathering. The attention.

Lingering Memories that just wont Die.

I had that same dream I had while I was in the hospital... I hate the hospital... this smell that slowly treads itself on a crisp bitter wind. It's not the smell of death, or disease... but the smell of a surgery room, the cleanliness of it, the radiation, the metal. It gives me chills thinking about the doctors pushing my bed around the surgery rooms... that smell makes my stomach twist into a knot.

The night I laid in the hospital before I blacked out, I remember with immense details of this dream corresponding to the fever I had.

I remember helplessly laying in my bed, burning up, almost on fire... all I wanted was the luxury of a fan; that's all. There was a fan at the foot of my bed, but it remained off and teased me while I sweated pain. However, I knew how to turn the fan on but it required that I find 50 stray hair length hairs... yes, I know it sounds completely ridiculous but I painfully twisted and turned my body in the hospital bed to only come up short and find 49 hairs. I cried and called for nurses to please turn the fan on, but no one came. The room was dark, the door shut, and I was left to soak in sharp pains, and freeze as the chills kicked in. I could never get the fan on, and the entire situation seemed to laugh at me hysterically as a result of failing to complete that task. I don't know why this dream still comes and goes... it scares the shit out of me and has me wide awake for the rest of night.

A lot of weird things happened in the hospital... a lot.