The Spiral Effet

I was happy. Thoroughly, perfectly, unquestionably happy for once in my life. The sad part is that it wasn't even real. I was floating along a river tinted pink in one of those boat things they use in Italy, oh I remember, a gondola. I was wearing a pretty, flowing, white dress, like the one Marilyn Monore wheres only longer. I had on a dippy white hat with a light yellow flower on it, a real flower, not fake. I was gorgeous, no doubt about it. Even the guy rowing the gondola was chekcing me out. There was another man at the oppoiste side of the boat playing the gutair very romanticly, he was also checking me out of course. Then there was him. Tall, dark, and handsome he kneeled by my side. He talked to me in words that I didn't understand, and I replyed in a voice I couldn't hear. He held my hand tight between the two of his, he always looked like he was saying something important. I never said anything important or worth hearing, but I didn't stop to wonder why he had chosen me instead of a girl who said important things. The river went on, and on, and he talked to me forever, and ever. The gutiar never stopped struming, and I never stopped listening.
There was a waterfall up ahead, I could hear it's roaring for a while, but now it had become so monsturous that I could ignore it no longer. I told the rower to turn around, he didn't. I told the gutair player to stop the boat, he wouldn't. I asked the man besides me what was happening, I couldn't understand him.
When we fell off the the edge of the waterfall and downwards towards the bubbiling water everything changed. The three men weren't there, and neither was the boat. It was just me falling, and falling, and falling.
I knew I was dreaming when I saw the stuffed animal of a purple elephant that I used to have as a kid falling next to me. One of the things I hate most is when you're having a dream, and then relize you're having a dream. You want to cling onto that nonconsiousnes for as long as possible, but it's too late. You have to wake up, you can try to cling on to that dream world, you can try to relive it right there and then, but if you're wise you'll just get up and stop kidding yourself. So I sat up.
It took me a moment to get over that sickly feeling of remembering where I was, and why I was there. I was in the public library, sleeping on a couch. I checked my watch, I had about an hour until the library opened. As I yawned I noticed the book I had been reading before I feel asleep. The title had caught my eye, I do judge books by their covers, it's impossible not to. It was titled "No One" Just by reading the back I knew I would love it. I guess becuase I could relate. No one understood me anymore, and I didn't understand them. Do you know the tourture of not being able to realte to your society? It's being stuck like between a rock and a hard place, no even worse, it's like being a bug in a spider web. The more you try and explain yourself, the more frustrated and confused everyone gets, just like the more that poor bug struggles the tighter their wound into the spider's web.