My (very un-) surreal thoughts.

My surreal thoughts at this very moment are not very automatic. Fairly obvious. The mouse. the mouse running across the floor means a lot. I hear a constant rustling. Constant dirt. Constant bits. Bits all chewed up. Dry bits. Wet bits. They all seem to resemble wood. Maybe the house is crumbling under this one gargantuan mouse. The mouse now is associated with bright bright orange. Plastic bag. Mouse. Wooden bits. House. Maybe even recycling. Does the mouse eating my rubbish mean I am recycling?
Penny.
USB stick.
Vodka.
I can't get the sheet to stay on my bed it always peels off on the corner I sit on. Oh well. It is all pretty dirty and uncomfortable anyway. Changing the sheets makes it worse. The sheets are stained.
My life seems to be all piled up.
Piles and piles of things. Dirt. Things. Dirt. Things.
Maybe I will al be piled up. I feel a bit piled up. My cells all piling together. Stuck. Sometimes my muscles feel so stuck. What happens when there is no more space in the ground to fit everyone in? Will we just be an earth of piled rubbish and dead people and things? Walking on a crust of .. well something.
I never lock my door. Maybe I should. It has three locks. I am so scared of getting locked out though. No thats not it. I am just lazy about the careful things.
The rubbish needs to go out other wise this mouse makes a mess.