Tell Me What You Know

My dad is investigating the death of his little brother. I cried when he told me what he was doing. Now, it hurts to see him on the internet for hours, just checking around.

Quite often, in the last thoughts before falling asleep, I realize, "It would be a relief to never wake up." It is not contemplating suicide, but some natural act of eternal dreamland. I love sleeping. I love dreaming. Over break, I dreamt of everyone. Beaches and buses and a sensation of flying. Occasionally, I have nightmares, but nothing worse than the monotony of real life. Today was the crown jewel in a cotinuation of this most excellent weekend. There was talking, stories being told everywhere. I was informed, "You make things interesting. I think you know that." I am becoming aware, and still, I wish to sleep.