I'm still sleeping at 7:07. I know 7:21 is coming up, so I sit up and open the van doors. Time to get moving. I'm turning into a sleep professional. The air was cool enough today for me to sleep with my van's doors closed, and still be comfortable with a blanket. I kept the little sliding window open. It's a little screened in conversion van window, and my head is right next to it when I sleep. I laid around all day feeling dazed, feeling distant. I woke up intermittently to watch some passing rain or roll over. I want to have a better understanding of life and reality - but the only thing I feel certain of is that any understanding is just an illusion. There can't be a point to this, and if there was - how would anybody know? Then what? There's just a brain, and some observable shit going on. I need to break away from getting wrapped up in these thoughts, but I don't want to disguise what I see right in front of me just to attempt to make everything easier. I can't make myself just shut up and shop. I can't get excited about making money. I can't watch much television. I can sleep and think. And drink. And read. I could actually use some company. I made some calls. Now it's 9:10pm and I have the entire night sitting in front of me. With as much as I slept, I'll probably be seeing the sun before my next nap.
Shelly stayed over. Hanging out in my van is fantastic. There's limo lighting in the back, and you're surrounded by speakers and soft walls. When music, drinking and conversation are the entire agenda, I doubt I could find a better setting. I haven't done anything to the decor except throw the back seats in a dumpster - and I'm thinking it really might be perfect how I have it. I still want a deep cycle battery, but that's about it. Shelly was nice enough to stay up pretty late. We rode bicycles up town for last call. I ordered her a beer, but then had to drink it 'cause she wasn't up for it. Drunk cycling through town on a nice night is the best. Then smoke weed. Then sit in my chair quietly listening to music until I think I can finally convince my body to fall asleep. I got a gazillion albums and songs from Shelly's hard drive, then I fixed her bicycle. I did not try to have sex. Just conversation about that and everything else.
Yes: I do realize that I should probably getthefuckoutta here pretty soon. Sticking around here is like not being able to wake up when you know you're dreaming. I'm having Kennett Square REM sleep - having a really tripped out dream - and I'm not waking up until I leave. I want to watch how this all unfolds, but I also need to get back to reality. Soon.