While I'm At

Ok, cool. I can't find that thing I was writing. I just wrote it, sitting on my bed. Where would it just be. It's not in my file cabinet drawer of old notebooks and sketchbooks. Not where it 'should' just be. I must be out of it. That's how I kind of was earlier. I was actually lost at work today. Unable to end a 2-sentence conversation, not knowing that a door can be pulled open, thinking someone is not talking to me. That doesn't happen to me. Not so blurrily. Now that is was hours ago, it can actually just have been a dream. I'd hate to admit it, but this must just be what "high" is. So degrading, but through no influence. I know for fact that's what the same "feeling" is. Yet, there is the idea of the 13 year old "whoa that movie was trippy lol, I must be on drugs" eyeing the approval of whoever showed the movie in the first place. Sweat and grogginess in the film as some goal to be acheived on some seasonal night of the year.

Like Justin, biting my lip to see if I'm gone yet. {bites bottom lip}
No.
My only point of reference is that burst of "Oh my god, I'm not here! I'm not here" or any other hot air balloon feeling in your head that I am trying to legitimately say is a feeling I feel and have felt for the larger number of my days. I'm not the gaggle of coworkers telling you "I'm just having one of my days" or joking about someone else being "special." How have I known those conversations before even knowing what it is to have a coworker? It's like you can pick up on it. The nights you actually do something to "not be here." Before that, the entire day is full of things happening and remarks you only could have made after the fact.
Still. What was it? That vision of everything being kind of watercolor.
After 3:15, only. The entire day before that, was just self-indulgent. Then I get back to my new routine, and... I have no idea what my new routine is. Looking uncoordinated. Causing others to slow down. Yet, obviously the clock is faster than usual. It's possible.

Still, for the past hour or so, I had been looking for that notebook. No idea which one. It's like when someone doesn't recognize a new person. This particular notebook only existed that one day, and then left. "Peace out." Well, while that may be- I still don't know where it is.

Now- if people can truly just make gold and kind of keep it under a mattress, then I don't know. At a stand still about us who leave a trail behind for spontaneous un-reasons.

Gave myself an idea of where to look, though. Also gave me relativity to someone else's though. Always accomplishment, somehow. Oh yeah and I sent this message:

"For the sake of it all, it's a three month cycle. The changes happen 2 weeks at a time. Unit of measurement, yes but for the sake of it all."

So. Whatever.