Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

Is it you? No way is it you. It must be me. But how can it be me when it's so you? It's all you. Why? Because, It's you! What! What do you want from me! It's me! Are you fucking happy?! It's always been me! Fuck! Aaaaaahhhhhhhh! You know that day you said it was you and it wasn't me? You were drunk and throwing up over the balcony, but I totally agreed with you. Therefore it's you. Don't look at me like that. It doesn't matter if your eyes were rolling in the back of your head and you were trying to swim in air for 45 minutes while chanting lyrics from Jessica Simpson backwards. I still think a little part of you knew exactly what you were saying. Ok, let's overlook that night. I will be the bigger man and say it's you. Are you happy now. No, no, don't say anything. I admitted that you were wrong and I accept your apology. Shh. Let it go. No need to call the cops for me. I know you are sorry. Hey, what are you doing with that gun. I'm not a gun expert but I think if you aim that another person than some states might consider that murder. Fine! I'm wrong! Are you happy! I can't believe you! You would actually put a gun on me?! And you're sober! I can see you're angry. The vein on your forehead is popping another vein on top of it. I'm just gonna accept your apology for putting the gun on me and for admitting you were in the wrong here. FUCK! You fucking shot me in the arm! How am I going to explain this to my parents! Mom, Dad, don't mind the blood shooting out my arm! It's just a flesh wound, I'll walk it off! This is relationship is so over! Gimmie the gun! But you will remember me. I threw my blood all over your furniture. Ha! Who got the last laugh now! Ok, I admit defeat. I was wrong and I am sorry. This blood isn't stopping! Fuck! I never knew I had this much blood. When is gonna stop! I think I'm dying here. Maybe you can suck the bullet out with snake like lips. Ok ok don't hurt me. Finally! The ambulance arrives. Good thing I wasn't just shot in the arm or I would've been near death by now! If I make it out alive I'm so getting a divorce. And I'm suing the fucking paramedics and the manufacture of that gun! One last thing. It's not me it's you! It's fucking you! Take me away from here! She's a fucking crazy!

Two days later

Where am I? I can move my arm. I can move my arm! Wait. Wait? Wait! I.....where's my fucking legs! Nothing was wrong with my legs! Where are my fucking legs! I was fucking shot in the arm! Why are my legs amputated! Whoa, it was a bad dream. Ok, I'm still all together. I still have my arms and legs.

The End.

I really need to lay off the alcohol. That was what I remember from my dream last night a.k.a. this morning.

And no this has nothing to do with my girlfriend. She would never listen to Jessica Simpson nor sing her song backwards. Shooting me in the arm and having my legs missing is all her. I would not be surprised at all. Goodnight, I'm going back to sleep.