I think I know how characters in dreams feel.
"Tell me how does it feel when the dreams become real".
Not that anything particularly interesting happened to me today. But yesterday, I was absolutely CONVINCED that it was Friday, but I know that tomorrow is Saturday. So today was kind of... nothing. The space in between.
"A place between sleep and awake".
I was just kind of walking around, living life as normal, but everything seemed numb and empty. I think it was partly because I'm really tired and it was the last day of term, but I kind of felt like I wasn't completely there. It was cold but I didn't feel it, I caught my semi-split nail so many times but barely noticed, I burnt my tongue on hot chocolate and didn't wince in pain. It was weird. Plus I was thankful that I managed not to impale myself on my sharp music folder.
English Literature really makes me think. Particularly Thomas Hardy. Other than comparing his poetry to episodes of the Moomins, it kind of puts human nature into words. Just as an example, take the first time I went a-wandering round town with George. We sat on a bench for hours just talked. It didn't even matter what we were talking about, just that we were there. But that place in town, it's been there for all the eternity of the world, under different names, and, prehistorically, attatched to Pangea or whatever. (I used to have a dinosaur obsession, I know what the first landmass was called.) It's probably seen absolutely loads of historical things, there's been miriads of people passing by, kings and queens, murderers, lovers, viking invasions... but, because the moment was special to me, I automatically associate that place with that event, even though it's one insignifigant event set against eternity.
Life is too short for memories to fade.
Peace & Love