(Phaysis)

I think I sleepwalked (sleptwalked?) this morning.

Didn’t get much sleep last night and had to wake up kinda early to be at work by 9am. Got up when my alarm told me to, went to the living room, sat in front of my computer (like I always do), and then…promptly fell back asleep. I slept long enough to start dreaming.

I dreamed that I was sitting at my computer, in my last apartment, and talking to a friend from home. There was an annoying knock on my door. I interrupted the conversation, got up and looked through the peephole; didn’t recognize the guy on the other side. He announced who he was, I opened the door and saw him and all his jesus buddies decorating the entire apartment complex courtyard in christmas decorations, asked if I wanted to join in on the party. I made a jerking-off motion and slammed the door, went back to my computer, and finished my conversation. My ex-roomate walks in and I snap to and wake up.

Dream over. I went to shower and get dressed for work. As I get to the door to leave, I notice that both of the locks on the door are…unlocked. Woah.

Either I forgot to lock them as I carried my bike in from last night, or I sleepwalked this morning. But did somebody knock on my door? Did I answer? Did I do the jerking-off motion and slam the door? Did I answer the door in my underwear?

Unless I start getting strange looks from the landlady, I will never know.

I’m going to write about a dream. This morning, I had a fucked-up dream. I was in love; this girl and I were hanging out. Something small was in bloom. As dreams go, she dropped out of the plot as I went elsewhere.

I was in a big house, ostensibly a place I lived in. It was clean, the light was cold, the walls were white. Found a needle full of heroin. Someone told me to not inject it, but that’s exactly what I did. I walked off, found a vein in my left elbow, and shot up. Like it was nothing. Felt the cold warmth in my arm as it spread. Felt it take over. Felt it take control. I disposed of the needle and stumbled into my bedroom, fell into bed. Felt everything that’s ever been described to me: mental calm, inner peace, warmth, a sense of belonging, a feeling of love.

Maybe my life is so cold and lonesome that there’s an excess of the neurochemicals associated with belonging to something and being loved; that they manifest themselves in dreams. Sounds plausible. I also watched a movie last night with similar themes to the dream, so there’s that. Things like movies and shows always reassemble themselves into the plots of my dreams.

Everything is explained…except for the fact that I’d willingly shoot up heroin in a dream. Like it was natural. It’s a dream, so no consequences, I guess. Not something I’d like to do, ever, mostly out of the fear of sliding downhill, like I did with cigarettes. The first smoke came naturally, flourished in an environment of friendship and solidarity with other people, and slid down into a lonely 2-pack daily habit.

I never want to play with that kind of fire ever again. I want to feel loved, to feel like I belong, but not at that price. Never at that price.