Some days I feel like I have hallucinated my entire existence. I seriously open my eyes and think to myself “what kind of messed up drugs was I on to hallucinate this crap?” I often make myself feel better by realizing that it was my parents, not I, who are to blame for this mass delusion that walks the Earth. That weird entity they named Tamara. On a lighter note, I seem to have awaken some abilities to communicate with ghosts. At least that is what I think must be happening because the alternative is a lifetime in a psychiatric unit, and a daily cocktail of Thorazine and possible ADHD medication to help the insanity. There is of course a method to my madness…and there is a reason why things are so nutballish in my world. I won’t bore you all with the details as of yet. Maybe later on when I decide whether or not it is even worthy of saying. Blah blah blah. I mean come on. My ex is sleeping on the couch, I am on the computer ranting incoherently, and the hallucination continues for another damn day. I think I am starting to enjoy exploring the insanity of my brain, but like all good things (or in my case, like all mediocre yet somewhat amusing things) this brain needs sleep. Time to pop my nighttime cocktail of “who gives a fuck?” and hit the sheets.