(no subject)
It started with the weirdest dream though. J and I are living in a new big city in the dream. While I'm out for a jog, I saw a 13 year old girl and her little sister being harassed by their pimp, who's pressing a gun against the girl's ribs.I rolled up on him instinctively, talking my gun out my pocket, and then stop. "J'll be mad," I think. The pimp sees me, smiles, throws his gun in the trash, and falls back into the shadows. I try to walk the girls home, but instead they make light jokes and then run for it. I wake up thinking, "I should've shot the bastard."
Why, in my dreams, is J always at work? That's something that honestly plagues me. I'm always in these life-or-death situations, and, sure as sure, I don't want to bother him because he's at work. That must reveal something about me.
Why, in my dreams, is J always at work? That's something that honestly plagues me. I'm always in these life-or-death situations, and, sure as sure, I don't want to bother him because he's at work. That must reveal something about me.