[I'm Real] I Can Hardly Believe It, Myself...

Every word that slips from my tongue sounds so profound right now...I don't know how to explain it, but I think I might be on the verge of something amazing. I feel like every single syllable that escapes my lips is somehow drenched in importance--like I've got the world on a string, and I can tug on that string all I want, even cut it if I felt the need...In fact, I'm absolutely certain I sound like a complete bag of nuts here, but I don't care. Nobody reads my damn "blog" anyway. And may I just take this precious moment in time to explain how much I hate the word "blog." It diminishes ANY meaning or depth that your writing had to it. Just saying, "Oh, just check out my blog"...sounds...absolutely ridiculous. What happened to the grand ol' times? Hrm? I would kill for a typewriter...a classic, old, black, rusted typewriter. I am convinced that with one piece-of-shit typewriter I could write an award-winning, classic novel. Or a speech that would change the world. I mean, every word I am speaking is of the utmost importance now. I am in a complete state of euphoric idealism right now. I feel like...not a cartoon, but a real person in one of those old movies...black and white, fuzzy screen, long cigarettes and French accents...Yes, that's exactly how I feel.... You know, these few moments of complete importance and empowerment have been absolutely lovely. Perhaps I should try and pretend my words are shaking with God-like magnitude all the time. Then maybe I could speak my mind without worry of consequences or awkward silences...a comfortable silence maybe, but no awkward ones. Yes, I do believe that from now on the sounds that escape my mouth will be those of great weight and measure. I shall be Edgar Allen Poe standing next to a Hallmark card writer. I shall be Marilyn Monroe next to Anna Nicole Smith. I am the genuine article. I am the big cheese (as they say). Yes, from now on each word from my lips will be breaking news! I'm sure this will prove to be very exciting, since normally I have a lot to talk about...yet nothing to say. Perhaps now I can have something perfect to say...without talking at all...

You think I'm a lunatic don't you? Not that it matters, I'm the only person who's ever going to read this. Ha. I love how I'm writing all of this shit, like I'm something...and literally no one is ever going to read it. All of my God-like importance--completely gone to waste now. Damn...and just when I was getting good at pretending to be better than I am.

I think I am coming down from my Jesus-high. I certainly don't know what came over me. I should probably get some sleep though. And don't worry about my dream-guy, because...you're better than my dream guy, because you're real. [I really just loved that line in the movie...I can't even get over it right now].


Thank you and goodnight.

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