/o\
So, for the past two nights now, I've had dreams/nightmares-thinly-disguised-as-dreams where Boss gets better.
Last night he was even better than he was in the first dream. If I have another one tonight, I'll mark this as a weird sort of recurring dream series which seems to be a really not-subtly-ironic-at-all way of mirroring Boss' too damned real deterioration with manifest images of him actually recovering. In these dreams I'm all retardedly happy and Boss isn't completely okay yet but still so evidently back to being his fishy BAMF self that I'm left wondering if I was feeling a bit of his fishy joy too.
And then I wake up and it's all ruined for me when I dash downstairs hoping a miracle has happened and I find myself still seeing this strange zombie-fish specimen which apparently used to be my pet.
It's as if for every new bit of fin that falls off or blood vessel that swells and bursts in his frail body, another piece of him recovers in my dream. Like being shown fragments of his fishy soul leaving his body and watching as they reassemble themselves again whole and untainted with the foulness of decay and disease. Such a poetic image. Mmhmm. I couldn't come up with this sort of shit if I was conscious, certainly.
Of course, this means that more and more of him is leaving me, and all I can say to that is-
[tl;dr] - FUCK YOU, SUBCONSCIOUSNESS. I'M SAID I'M NOT GIVING UP ON HIM YET. FUCK. YOU.
Last night he was even better than he was in the first dream. If I have another one tonight, I'll mark this as a weird sort of recurring dream series which seems to be a really not-subtly-ironic-at-all way of mirroring Boss' too damned real deterioration with manifest images of him actually recovering. In these dreams I'm all retardedly happy and Boss isn't completely okay yet but still so evidently back to being his fishy BAMF self that I'm left wondering if I was feeling a bit of his fishy joy too.
And then I wake up and it's all ruined for me when I dash downstairs hoping a miracle has happened and I find myself still seeing this strange zombie-fish specimen which apparently used to be my pet.
It's as if for every new bit of fin that falls off or blood vessel that swells and bursts in his frail body, another piece of him recovers in my dream. Like being shown fragments of his fishy soul leaving his body and watching as they reassemble themselves again whole and untainted with the foulness of decay and disease. Such a poetic image. Mmhmm. I couldn't come up with this sort of shit if I was conscious, certainly.
Of course, this means that more and more of him is leaving me, and all I can say to that is-
[tl;dr] - FUCK YOU, SUBCONSCIOUSNESS. I'M SAID I'M NOT GIVING UP ON HIM YET. FUCK. YOU.