I lay here, in my bed watching Battlestar Galactica on my 360, it is my new Netflix obsession.

For some reason I can’t quite shake a vaguely uneasy feeling. Like I’m missing something obvious, maybe my subconscious won’t let me see it, maybe it’s nothing. It’s not knowing that is driving me a little crazy.

Well, more like frustrated and annoyed. I hate not being able to figure something out. I’ve thought about little else and I have no solid answers. Just inklings, snippets, ideas…suspicions even.

My life is good, great in fact. This makes me very intent on figuring out what, why, where, who and how.

For some reason the really huge things that crop up are so much easier for me to deal with than the little ones.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Personal idiosyncrasies aside, it’s making my mood dark and my dreams odd.

This is unacceptable.

I feel like its probably nothing. But there’s that tingling, tickling in the back of my mind, teasing me with its inaccessibility.

My mind is an odd place. It is a strange world I inhabit – that at least has never been called into question.

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