Wednesday, September 14, 2005

I hate these dreams


Alright, I'm totally sick of having these dreams. Kurzen, what the frick, man? Basketball is so stupid, I thought I didn't care anymore, but maybe I do, I still have dreams. So last night, it started that I was driving in the snow and I'm me. Me right now, 25 and all that out of shape crap. I'm driving in the country and eveything is bluish and nighttime and winter and snowy. I'm near Huntington. I don't know where I'm going until I'm there and it's Platt's house. It's just about time for practices to start and I'm late this year but apparently I'm going to some team sleepover at the Coach's house. Neither Platt nor his wife are there and instead Jordan and Andy Kurzen are like "supervising" the guys who are playing for Huntington this year but are like 7 years old and playing on a little hoop in their pajamas with a foam ball. I walk in like everyone on the team should know me and say, finally, Matt's here! Like Jimmy Chitwood or something, but this doesn't happen.
I guess Kurzen knows that I think I'm gonna play this year and lovingly tries to talk me out of it before Platt gets home. This conversation makes me have a very scared feeling, because when Platt gets home he'll shoot me or something. Also, Andy has not volunteered for his position as babysitter for these tiny-toon sized ballers. He's under watch and is like a slave. I am very scared and realize that I cannot play well anymore anyway and try to get out of the house quick. The thing is I can't find the right door and the snow is getting bad to where I may not be able to drive. When I finally get outside there are helicopters like in Conspiracy Theory and I'm slipping and running and falling to my car. I take off and find that I have to live on campus again and start school over. I hate that I still deal with this subject subconsciously. I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! Aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That picture is priceless. I wish it was an animated .gif & he was motioning for a travel. That'd be the shizz, friend.