Tonight I had a horrible nightmare. I jumped out of a plane and thought for a few brief, delusional moments that I could fly. I am well aware that I can't actually fly. That it violates every rule of evolution and nature and all, but  just go with me on this. For a few seconds, I thought that I could fly. Anyway, a few moments later the gravity of the situation set in (both literally and figuratively) and I remembered that, delusions aside, I can't really fly. 
I started to fall to the Earth at a blinding speed. 
     No parachute, no jet pack, none of those nifty surfboards that you see extreme sports guys flying around in sometimes. Not a downward spiral, there was no spiral to speak of. This was pure downward. Unfettered velocity sending me quicker and quicker toward an extravagant and messy landing. 
     Nothing could stop this from happening at this point. It's just the way that things are. I should not have jumped out of the plane in the first place. Then, I was delusional enough to believe the false hope that I was actually going to be okay doing so. In a way, it was almost a relief when reality set in and I was allowed to plunge to my inevitable and, dare I say, logical demise. It's the way of things. Always has been, always will be. The insane part was that bit when I thought that I could somehow keep it from happening.
Know what the worst part is?

Turns out that I wasn't really dreaming at all....

I'm just a Los Angeles Clippers fan.