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I've had a song that I sing in the dreams stuck in my head for days.

"I'll be so alone without you.
Maybe you'll be lonesome, too.
... And blue.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane.
See the jungle when it's wet with rain.
Just remember till you're home again...
You belong... to me."

I was thinking of someone specific when I sang it, and I can't get my mind off of them. I can't have them. I know it's wrong. It's wrong in a million different ways. And when I'm in the same room with them, even when they're inches away, it feels like five thousand miles separate us. Every inch of those miles is filled with heartache.

There are days when I just don't even see the point in continuing to pretend I'm living. How do you survive like this? How does anyone do that?

Thanks to that sleeping bullshit I got stuck in the hospital for another four days. You want to hear about hallucinations and nightmares? Let's all remember that a thousand stuffed animals were still starin' at me with their little beady plastic eyes the entire time. Anyone ever seen a cartoon movie called Akira? Look up the damn scene where the animals come to life. I dare you to sleep peacefully after that shit.

[Loki]
You didn't do your usual thing where you get out in public with your gigantic golden staff and take credit for the misery of thousands, so I'm guessing you didn't actually have anything to do with this one?

And how would you like to work for me? Hysterically funny, right? But I got a department that could use a guy like you at the helm of it.

[Nat]
That Barton ain't MY Barton, is he?

Got home from Germany a day early. Took a nap. I'm not even home ten hours and I get slammed with a Dream. Seriously, OC, did you like, miss me or something? Not cool.

That said - the first dream I had before was about being orphaned. Which ran too parallel to this world for comfort. It made my skin crawl how similar it was. This one, I get adopted by this guy, with another kid. and I think I know who it is, here that is... he's here, the other kid...

It was interesting, to say the least. Or something like that anyways. Who knew, in my dreams I'm a wizard. Magic, pretty awesome stuff.

After these last round of dreams, I'm pretty sure I've practically become the alien Batman of the Galaxy.

Oh, except for the part where I create a band of misfits to do some clean up on a dirty floating rock in space, and they all get killed due to my carelessness.

This is why I shouldn't be in charge of anything. I need some good bourbon.

Dreamed last night that I was approached by Supergirl with an offer to work for Lex Luthor. But before I could do that, I was convinced to sign a contract with this guy named Rex Leech to represent me. Then Supergirl and I were attacked by this super villain called Stinger and he destroyed this bridge that led into Metropolis and we had to pull people from their cars. It was pretty crazy. Pretty cool too. It seems like a lot of people see me as some kind of celebrity instead of a super hero and in a way, I see myself that way and don't really take the whole superhero thing seriously. I just really like the attention.

Strangely enough, I find that the more violent and disturbing my dreams become, the more I turn to my kitchen for comfort.

Not comfort eating, exactly, but comfort cooking. I prepare elaborate meals at three in the morning, only to pick at a bite or two before disposing of it and returning to bed. Such a waste of good food, but I've never been a fan of left-overs.

Perhaps I should channel my energies into a dinner party.

I honestly forgot this network existed. I could treat this like Facebook or Twitter and report the most stupidly mundane things.

For example: I burned my grilled cheese sandwich.