Preface: I am not crazy

I had an interesting paranoid delusion the other day. Don't call the psych ward yet-- I'm no psychiatrist but I'm pretty sure if you can identify something as a paranoid delusion, it's not really a delusion.

Once or twice a week I take the bus to Carrboro to buy groceries, and this gets pretty monotonous. I get a little queasy if I read because it's so bumpy, so typically I use this time for listening to music/assessing my life. I was thinking about how I moved across the goddamn country to change my life, and not enough is changing. I'm happy, but why? Nothing has changed but my location. I moved 1000 miles closer to a certain friend of mine, and I still never see him. I live in this beautiful beautiful place but don't have time to enjoy it. So I was telling myself, change things or go back to Chicago, Elyse, because you didn't come here to dick around, make basically no money, and be 1000 miles from anyone who gives a crap about you.

That's when I started noticing lots of weird little things that you'd only notice if you took the same busride at the same time of day on the same days of the week. There's a boy with a mohawk I admire who always wears the same red plaid jacket. There's the bike (the one identical to my own) that I always notice locked up outside of a restaurant in the same position, with its wheel removed. I started thinking that, if this were A Beautiful Mind or something, all of these little things would be repetitions because my mind can only generate so much material to put in a 'fantasy world.' I like seeing people in mohawks-- there's mohawk boy. It explains how my life can be so superficially different when everything is deeply rooted in the same old bullshit.

And then, to top of all this paranoia, "Carolina in My Mind" came up on shuffle. WTF, life? Why do you fuck with me so much?

So, let me wrap this up by reiterating that I'm not crazy. I don't seriously believe that my entire world was generated as an escapism from my "real life" as an in-patient in a mental ward, and I don't really believe that ALL people in Disney character costumes are out to get me... oh wait, were you not aware of that one? It's called masklophobia and IT IS A REAL CONCERN FOR MANY PEOPLE. Anyway, the point is, I gotta take some action against this inaction.