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In Your Dreams

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It’s looking like I’m going to Summer School, which would start in two weeks. I’m not sure whether I’m excited or embarrassed or what. Haven’t told my brother yet. He emailed this earlier:

“I know I’ve told you not to tell people about dreams you’ve had, but I had a dream last night where I was dating Lindsay Lohan, and I think it was pretty realistic. She was looking SMOKING hot, and she was smoking a lot. She was also crying a lot, pretty much the whole time in fact. I was holding her really tight, telling her that everything was going to be okay. And occasionally I would kiss the top of her head, which smelled like an amazing mixture of cigarettes and perfume. A metaphor for Lindsay herself? You be the judge. Anyway, my point is that even in a dream the most perfect, hot, amazing girl on Earth (Lindsay Lohan) is totally crazy and crying all the time. I can’t even get a girl to chill the fuck out in my own dreams, let alone on a crowded sidewalk. I’m beginning to think that I’m destined to roam this World alone, in a haze of drugs, alcohol and awesomeness, fighting bitches off with an old broken mop handle. And I’m okay with that. You should be too.”

"Shhhhhh... Don't tell my parents."



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