infinity'd

i admit i was lackadaisical this thanksgiving,

at least re: my usual account of what i am thankful for.

several excuses include me being busy with my friends,

whom i have not seen in sundry years,

and overloading on things that i should not have eaten

that i should not have eaten

(i.e. the point past the point where i should have kept my

overreaching mouth shut and not eaten any more.

i conceded approximately 4-5 lbs this thanksgiving

on phil and clare's mac and cheese alone.).

regardless, i do have some things in mind

which i should directly thank for making my life liveable.

first, and most importantly, are my friends.

without my friends, these last couple of months would have been

disastrous, to say the least.

i have enumerated countless times how shitty my life

has been in the recent past, and without the support

of people who care about me deep in my brainspot,

i would have been far more miserable,

perhaps even intolerable to myself.

i rarely admit in public that i need the help of others,

but i feel safe enough here to say that

i do rely on those who know so;

they know who they are, even if i am bombastic enough

to say so about 2% of the time.

second, i am thankful for routines.
as much as i love unpredicability and spontaneous
gun fires/death dealing robots/encounters with strange animals,
i feel so comfortable doing things the same way
day in and day out.
i know this is an odd thing to be thankful for,
but i can easily imagine myself going crazy
if i had to do a bunch of different things every day.

now that i have dealt with those clerical duties,
time to discuss things more important.

lately i have been having some bizarre dreams.
i actually believe all my dreams for the past several weeks
have somehow seeped onto one another,
creating a world that is parallel to reality
except for one theme between them that is slightly,
yet essentially, different than my actual life.
in all of these hyper-vivid dreams,
i never get what i want.
i see whatever it is i want right in front of me,
but i always end up with something else
or nothing at all.
i would not go so far as to say they are nightmares,
but being denied night after night in my dreams
is quite tiresome, not to mention a bit
disheartening once i mull it over a bit with my dogs
when i wake up
(unsurprisingly, they are apathetic to my misgivings
and generally have nothing to contribute to my psyche;
i am beginning to suspect that dogs are
actually sociopaths, but because of their cute faces
and petite bodies, we are unable to distinguish this fact.
of course, not having humanistic vocal cords
might contribute to the sequelae of this psychiatric condition.).

then again, i am realizing that i am delving deeper
and deeper into the inner circles of my local tautology club.
does what i want in real life matter to myself in my dreams?