I'm wearing different things today. Different boots, different jeans, different jewelry. What I'm not wearing is a coat. If I were poetic, I'd say that I didn't wear a coat to school because I need to feel the cold. To know that this was my body and that it exists. My red skin would be proof.
In literature, we're discussing Vanity with a capital 'v' and learning about how it can be a good thing. A gift from God, even.
I'm surprised by how tired I'm not. Every single one of my senses seems overstimulated. I'm not spacing out consistently, but when I do, it's for a good chunk of time. I can't remember where time goes.
Every movement is graceful.
I'm waiting for my class to end so I can go back. I don't know why. Maybe because I don't know what else to do or maybe because I'll remember that it's a dream and move on. After all, I have no proof. When I get there, I keep looking for some anyway.
There are people here, and that makes me uncomfortable. Almost self-conscious. I sit down on the couch facing the mountains and find solace in the fact they're there. I can see them. But I close my eyes, and then they're gone. A new city could be there now, or a tsunami. Blackness. I open my eyes and they exist again.
I lean forward and squeeze my head, trying to keep any more thoughts from getting in because it's too crowded in here, and I see something on the ground. My breath hovers for a moment before I reach down and take it and then look around for someone to laugh with me. The room is getting darker, and the people are disappearing. They aren't here anymore. I can't hear them, I won't see them. Out of sight, out of mind.
I feel the earring in my hand. This is not a dream.
I could be using the stairs, but I'm taking the elevator instead even though I have to wait for a long time. I hear it coming slowly from the floors below, making stops on the way. I close my eyes and run the earring over my lips. The elevator reaches the fourth floor.
And there's no telling what's behind the doors.
I open my eyes--