Sunday I decided to go for a hike up Mt. Kierra. It's the local "mountain" but is more of a hill. After getting to the top I decided to meander around for a bit, seeing if I could find anything cool. As I was climbing down a slanted rock wall, I slipped on some wet moss that covered the slab. I lashed out for the nearest tree. Wrong tree. I removed my hand to find it covered in thorns. Now my hand has chicken pox and 20 splinters. Lucky Day.
Dead asleep I laid, dreaming of something horrible. I can't tell you what it was about , but this must have been the first nightmare I have had in years. My eyes shot open. Wide awake my heart pounded, no it was more than that. It felt like there was a jackhammer in my chest, hammering away at my rib cage. My hands lurched toward the excruciating pain. Back and forth I rolled waiting for this pseudo-heart attack to end. "Breath slowly, deep breaths," I thought. I have to lower my heart rate. "In and out, in and out." Then nothing. From fears of death, to frustration for being up at 3:30 in the fucking morning, and back to sleep in an instant. The morning came and I asked myself if that really happened, or if the whole thing was all a dream. A pain lingered in my chest. Confirmed. Nightmares suck.
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