I had a dream that some nice gentleman procured some acid for me and I went tripping. The world did that little wavy thing like on TV when a character is dreaming or flashing back, and I met my spirit guide, who is apparently a tall, yet pudgy man with a bushy black beard. Jerry Garcia? His voice was deeper and he didn't wear glasses, though.

All kinds of weird things happened, though. It was a dream within a dream, and it was very realistic. Odd! Some little girl kept following me around during the "reality" part and asking me to help with her math. I am terrible at math. As in, "I don't comprehend anything beyond eighth-grade math." And this chick was wavin' trigonometry at me. The fuck if I knew anything about it. The nice gentleman gave me another blotter, so away I went into another dream-within-a-dream with the Pudgy Bearded Guy. I like him; he was cute. X3

I've always had a fascination with slightly chubby men. I'm not sure why. It's kind of unfortunate that I live today, because everybody, EVERYBODY, is so fucking fixated on being a twig. Some people can't help it, I know--my brother eats like a bloody horse and he's still a toothpick. He eats more than I do, but I don't think he's gained or lost weight in the past ten years.

But the people who CAN help it ruin themselves to fit the media image of "perfect beauty." I think there's something beautiful or interesting about everybody, and it's sad that few people realize that everyone is beautiful in some way or another. I think I look good; I like the way I look. Even though I'm six feet tall, weigh about 180 lbs, have a big nose, my legs are fishbelly-white, and I wear glasses. I think I look good. I don't think I'm the Stunning Portrait of Godly Beauty or anything, but I look nice. Then again, everybody does, in their own little way.