Mood: A little vexed
Currently listening to: Where Is My Mind - Placebo

Had the strangest experience last night.

There i was, trying to get an early night for once, mulling over the latest chapter of Mr. Dorian Gray's life when in the darkness of my room i conjured up one of those waking dreams. You know the kind, its more like a vision than a dream - when you know you're conscious but yet not, so very near the cusp of waking and sleeping.

Anyhow, what transpired was a conversation between me and the mirror witnessed from, well... myself, from a spectator's point of view. I was talking to the mirror about a multitude of things, asking and answering questions on my own accord as people are wont to do in the privacy of their own minds. It was all very strange and i can't really recall, or really want to recall, what was said through the majority of that rambling monologue although i remember some discourse on why darker thoughts seemed more complex than lighter ones and if that implied some degree of depth, weight or reality to such thoughts as opposed to the apparent simplicity of the other. Or something like that.

I only vividly remember the very final part of the whole thing. The whole affair eventually started to become increasingly heated with much finger pointing and hateful words thrown at the mirror (and repeated in kind by the mirror of course - it was all a tad surreal from my point of view, and not to mention disturbing) which somehow culminated in the image outside of the mirror shouting out part of that Nietzchse quote "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you". Well, just the second sentence at any rate, although i can't really recall the context of it...

Then, amazingly, the image in the mirror seemed to get a life of its own which seemed to shock the other to the core. Malevolence, or a severe sense of loathsome gloating, was apparent on its face and it hissed out in some overdone drawl: "Then you better buckle up bucko 'cuz, peek-a-boo... i see you."

And that's when i sort of snapped awake... (in hindsight: geez, does anyone else find that corny as hell? Seemed so sinister at the time but... peek-a-boo? I mean, really...)

Couldn't really sleep that well after that either from some sense of paranoia and unease that crept up on me, so i just kept on reading a TIME magazine with the light on until i fell asleep at some point of the night.

Ok, just thought i would write that one down for no apparent reason (Hrmph, and my mother wonders why i don't get enough sleep).

What next? Talking to myself again? Pffft... we all know how that worked out...

Oh well, at least i didn't die for the umpteenth time like i usually do. THAT's getting old fast.