Lost In Myself

I spend my time thinking.

What worlds float through my consciousness as I stare into the vastness of space and time that floats above my head?
The wonders of the ways that my fingers feel on computers' keyboards; how I'm planning to walk from my room to Physical Therapy tomorrow, as I do almost 5 days a week; whether I'll sit down to eat lunch in the cafeteria, or bring it back to room, compared to all the other times I've eaten there, versus what I have to do in my room, along with the benefits of using real utensils and plates as opposed to plast-
So, why did my friend say that they 'weren't really sure if they would see me...' last week? Hm. Don't know...
I'm hungry.
I need to drink more water. Six bottles a day might not be cutting it.
Now, when do I start looking into where I'll go back to school? Well, I'll have to ask that I need to talk to Jeff about what's going on with my car order- I want an arrival date ASAP.

For in sleep, what dreams may come?
My mind is in perpetual slumber- not in inactivity, but in its wondrous, painful ability to craft the most believable illusions, the most confusing mazes, the most time-consuming conundrums; there is no end to the madness, and its perpetuity tends only to prolong the madness.

I'm constantly lost in this dream-world. I'm never sure if I'm brilliant and my mind is spouting ideas that, if released, would blind the world- or if I'm reasonably intelligent, but also (not-so-slightly) insane and the noise in my head drowns out the intelligence I do have.