Are you really here, or am I dreaming?
Good morning, gray sky. Shall it rain another day? Or shall we see the sun? One can only guess.
My brain is a battle field. My thoughts set off explosions like hidden mines beneath the ground. Each emotion is a grenade. Each idea is a gun shot through the silence.
My heart is in a good place.
I saw Rebecca yesterday. The visit made me extremely happy. I even met her boyfriend Brent. He was very kind.
I got the second half of my tarot cards and bonded with them.
I love my Edgar so much. I can't wait to see him today!
My Aunt Tam is dead. She died weeks before anyone told me.
I think a part of me is angry about that but I am doing everything I can to not be.
What good does hostility do? What is done is done. She was dead either way. What difference...
It was like a parallel universe of individuals I used to know, know now, and familiar faces from television.
In the dream I accidentally knocked over a series of fancy stairs or something; alot broke.
The whole class stopped liking me because I was clumsy and we had to stay hours afterwards until everything was repaired.
They completely shunned me except for a strange version of Andrew Vollenweider, a friend of mine in Mandeville.
In the dream I was sitting with Andrew and drawing in a random notebook left around with the basketballs and other athletic equipment.
On a whim I flipped through it and it was filled somehow with his personal visions, the thoughts in his head.
I showed the notebook to him and he got angry at me. He said I was trying to manipulate him with his own thoughts. He accused me of having some scary ability to steal thoughts from his head.
I screamed that I didn't do anything wrong. That I just know what I found. I begged him to realize it wasn't my fault.
There was a gym teacher that had to go out to replace what I had broken.
We had to wait around for him to come back, but he never did.
After a while in dreamland, there was an assembly announcing that while the gym teacher was away replacing what I had broken, he had a heart attack. The teacher's son was in my class. His eyes suddenly flooded with tears and he turned to his friend. He shouted, "You want to know how I feel? THIS is how I feel!!!!"
That's all I remember.
Man, sometimes I just don't know.
People are so mean in my dreams.
Reality is such a funny thing. Such an ironic, interesting series of events.
The sun is beginning to shine through the clouds.
I have a story to read for Advanced Reading/SAT. Found out yesterday.
It is called "The Awakening."
Again more irony.
What of you?