I do talk too much. tsk, tsk.

Originally posted November 11, 2006.
[reposted because of this]

I feel like I'm waking up from a dream.

Nah, scratch that. I feel like I'm stuck in an endless, vicious dream that's eating me alive. (Jeez, I read too much Gaiman. John Constantine comes to mind. Dreams are real. "It is never just a dream. Here less than other places.")

For the past couple of months, I had been reliving the glory days of my youth -- too much beer, too much freedom, too much recklessness.

I am caught in this overpowering vortex -- able to escape, but unwilling to do so.

What am I to do?

Has this become my ultimate reality?

Some physicists (Sam Carter, in particular - ngyahaha) believe that an infinite number of parallel realities exist in the universe. Each reality is defined by choices. A little side turn in an incidental fork radically changes the face of any particular reality.

I have made bad choices, sure. But I refuse to accept that this is my reality. But then again, it is never "just a dream".