Phillip

Myspace Contact Tables Extended Network Banner made with MyBannerMaker.com! Click here to make your own! MyGen Profile GeneratorLast night I had a dream that I met myself- that I became acquainted with that image of a personality that everyone who meets me carries in their mind (those who find the image tolerable enough not to forget anyway). His name was Erik Yello and we were sitting in my bedroom in my flat in Kings Cross. At the beginning, he was doing most of the talking as I was in a state of shock over my true appearance sitting before me. ~Is my voice really that high? Do I really look that scruffy after just one day of not shaving? God, look at those bags under my eyes…~ Erik began talking about all of our best memories from childhood. It was like experiencing a déjà vu so strong that it puts you in a coma. But eventually my nerves began to warm, my breathing pattern became normal and I became used to the situation. “God I was a weirdo back then,” I finally admitted, but I didn’t have to. He knew. He knew every memory and every secret. It’s funny how we think our best friends know the “real” us. After meeting Erik Yello I realised that I didn’t even know half of myself... Back then I believed I was a pretty clever, pretty nice, pretty pretty kind of guy, but Erik insisted that I was lying to myself. “Back then? Ha! What do you mean back then?” “You know, back in Michigan. Around those years,” I said. “Oh, I see. You mean how whenever someone used to come over to the house and drink from a glass we would always throw the glass away afterwards because we were afraid we would get some disease from them. Or wait! Remember that time we were annoyed with your sister’s friends who were over the house in the middle of winter and we cut up their shoes and hid them in the basement? We must admit that that was pretty weird. Actually, it was beyond weird it was fucking psycho. But it makes sense because deep down we are the most competitive, jealous person we know. We were a looser. How pathetic. How sad.” “Speak for yourself.” “I am YOURSELF! And I don’t understand why we can’t comprehend that we are still that same scrawny weirdo. Nothing has changed mentally. Sure now we have a bunch of exotic European friends, fucked god knows how many people, partied in god knows how many clubs and did god knows how many drugs. But what did it get us in the end? An image? We’re not famous enough to have an image. Ostensibly it made us happy but deep down we knew it was all a waste of time. None of our friends even truly likes us. We’re just that American guy who has the funny accent. They say they love you but that’s just because they’re always on E. Childhood is our core and we always stay the same. Some say that you live and learn, and most probably do but we sure don’t. How can one learn to become normal when one is a complete psycho. If we could we probably wouldn’t have been caught shoplifting in Oxford Street a few years back would we? God, remember when the CCTV cameras followed us from the Top Shop (where we stole the belts and wrist bands) then to the Gap (where we stole that pair of jeans) then to H&M (where we stole that hat we didn’t even like and that ugly t-shirt) and then to River Island where after exiting and walking about 100m, two under-cover police officers stopped us. We put up a fight, but they got us on the ground in the end. then they dragged us all the way back to the shop, through the crowd of holiday shoppers, took us to that little room, un-zipped our bag and dumped all of our stolen shit onto the floor. Psycho! We are a psycho!”“I’m not a psycho. I’ve learned my lesson and will never do that again.” “We will! We’ll do worse! We’ll never be remotely successful at anything, I don’t know why we’re kidding ourselves. We’ll probably end up stealing just to pay our university loans back- It’s inevitable. Psycho! Psycho! Psycho! We are a psycho! I won’t even mention our obsession for January. January doesn’t love us anymore. Let’s get it through our head and give it up. Everyone says it behind our back: ‘poor Phil. He needs to get over January’ But will he ever? No. Why? Because Phil is a fucking psycho. A big mother-fucking psycho who is so weak at everything that it will prevent him from ever doing anything with his life!” “Shut the fuck up!” “PSYCHO!” “I’m not a psycho. I’m not. I’m normal. I am… Really!” Suddenly, I woke up in my bed. both of my eyes opened at the same time and a feeling of complete blankness overcame me. I was happy that my dream was over, but at the same time I wanted to learn more from myself. I believed Erik but then again didn’t – “I’m sure I know myself better than some ghost in a dream,” I thought. But the dream stuck in my head and the next day I went on to an on-line dream dictionary to try to make some sense of it. I looked up “bedroom” since that was where the dream took place. It said: “indicative of your sexual nature and intimate relation.” Seeing that me and myself were the only ones in the dream, I decided that the dream meant that I must love myself. And when I think about it, I do. I think I am a very good-looking, confident person who has his whole life ahead of him. I love hanging out with my friends, I can’t imagine where I would be without them, and I am forever trying to make my family proud of me. And who knows where that determination and high self-esteem will take me- Maybe one day I’ll end up being President of the United States of America…