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The Writings on the Stall

Wednesday, 2002-10-09

second-hand thoughts

Throughout my entire life I have had an affliction. One that my dad passed down: snoring. So I knew I would, as well. But one thing I didn't really know until I moved in with Rowdy (my dormmate freshman year) was that I talked in my sleep.

Well, apparently I sometimes sit up in my sleep and scare the hell out of whoever is in the room with me. Mainly because I speak some gibberish and then fall back down. Never to remember my little speech in the morning.

Gemma told me today that last nite I talked in my sleep once again. Luckily she's a sound sleeper, otherwise I'd probably drive her crazy later on when we move in together.

Although she is the one that recalled what I said — "theres no transitions" — I said it. Therefore, I have discretion as to punctuation. "There's no transitions" is what I intended. You can quote my sleep on that.

The past couple of weeks I have been trying to remember some thoughts that I have been meaning to post here. Turns out I probably never will. But I think that one is the best I will have in a while.


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