Whats so wrong with just being me?

No, nobody told me to change. I'm not whining today about anyone beyond myself.

I'm always talking about being yourself and the hell with what everyone else thinks. Well you know what? I'm a hypocrite. I compare and critique and adjust little things about myself all over the place for the sake of making other people happy. Its great that they find it to be good, but I shouldn't be giving up me for other people. And sometimes its just because i think I'm a dork.

I woke up again this morning talking to myself again. I was having a dream about zombies... they were taking over the world, as zombies sometimes do, but they were super intellegent and super fast zombies. They moved at lightning speed and travelled from room to room through the ventalation, so you could hear them but you couldn't find them. Anyway, zombies were taking over Evs house, and I went outside to hide something from them, but everyone else stayed in the house, and I was really really scared to go back in because they were moving downstairs from ... upstairs... through the air vents, and I knew they were smart and fast because before I was myself, I was a guy in another place hiding from them. I (this random man) Jumped into this underwater shaft and jumped and climbed up to escape, but found myself moving down. Then I was another guy trying to save my first self by climbing into an air vent so the first me could escape... I don't know what happened.

At any rate, next thing I know I'm standing outside by a barn trying to explain to Everett how I had lost my pointer finger on my left hand from the knuckle up, and I was getting ready to explain, showing him the empty space where my finger should have been. It all seemed very real. I felt like when I woke up my finger would be gone or something. It was familiar too, but I don't know how. I've never lost a finger. So all I could manage to say was "I.... I don't remember what happened."

So I woke up, knowing Ev was sitting right next to me, thinking that I had to finish my story or I was going to sound like a babbling moron. After I faced him, eyes still closed, and very loudly proclaimed, "I don't remember" I realized that I still had all my fingers, I had been dreaming, and I sounded like a babbling moron anyway. I had to finish with "Sorry, I"m talking to myself again" and explain the dream.

I sat there thinking, 'I sure wish I wasn't such a dork" when in fact, I like being a dork. Why can't I just be happy being me? Because I'm STUPID!!!!!!!! or something.