more dreams about feelings
Last night:
Crushes on girls, especially one with purple-tipped hair, and little or no idea how to get her attention.
(I do have boy-crushes in real life from time to time, but in dreams, only women.)
Feeling like an outsider, so much like an outsider, in some kind of school or college for artists. They were having a festival on a green-grassy day, selling big paintings and pretty fabrics and things, but I didn't stick around.
A crush on a different girl, who also doesn't exist in real life, but in the dream she was my RA maybe. I said it was okay if she hung out in the room while I changed, but I think she didn't get it.
People talking all at once, and echoing, so that I couldn't understand what they were saying. I couldn't hear properly, even when it was only one person.
I saw my uncle's stash of an entire crate of multicoloured dildos, and tactfully said, "oh, I found your stage props."
Pervasively, I couldn't tell what was real. How disconcerting.
(that last one was probably because earlier that day, I was thinking about a time when I was very small: I remember rubbing shit in beautiful swirls on the bathroom cabinet. I kept doing it because I could never tell if I'd actually done it, or if I'd just imagined it, so I kept testing. When my mom asked me if I'd done it, and if so to please stop because that was gross, I said I didn't know if I had. I didn't stop until I actually saw my mom cleaning it up, so that I understood.)
my head is abuzz, still half asleep
Crushes on girls, especially one with purple-tipped hair, and little or no idea how to get her attention.
(I do have boy-crushes in real life from time to time, but in dreams, only women.)
Feeling like an outsider, so much like an outsider, in some kind of school or college for artists. They were having a festival on a green-grassy day, selling big paintings and pretty fabrics and things, but I didn't stick around.
A crush on a different girl, who also doesn't exist in real life, but in the dream she was my RA maybe. I said it was okay if she hung out in the room while I changed, but I think she didn't get it.
People talking all at once, and echoing, so that I couldn't understand what they were saying. I couldn't hear properly, even when it was only one person.
I saw my uncle's stash of an entire crate of multicoloured dildos, and tactfully said, "oh, I found your stage props."
Pervasively, I couldn't tell what was real. How disconcerting.
(that last one was probably because earlier that day, I was thinking about a time when I was very small: I remember rubbing shit in beautiful swirls on the bathroom cabinet. I kept doing it because I could never tell if I'd actually done it, or if I'd just imagined it, so I kept testing. When my mom asked me if I'd done it, and if so to please stop because that was gross, I said I didn't know if I had. I didn't stop until I actually saw my mom cleaning it up, so that I understood.)
my head is abuzz, still half asleep