What Dreams May Come
I've always suspected, but last night confirms it. Stress does for my subconscious what LSD does for my conscious. Namely agitate and turn it lose. Poke it with sticks until it is good and riled and up and then open the floodgate. In anticipation of the beginning of my own version of a "bisected December" I dreamt the following.
I was taking missions into space in a very rickety ship and my mother kept begging me not to go because it was so dangerous but I was one of the few people in the whole world who do what ever it was I was doing up there. It involved lots of acrobatics and general hardship on my part and I recall feeling as though I had never been happier in my life.
There was a girl having sex in my bed with a very large man, sumo wrestler large, and talking to me the whole time. Mostly about how it took her a while to get used to so much flesh but how now she really liked it and was proud of herself for having over come her vanity and shallowness. If fact, she especially liked how his weight felt on top of her, comforting she said. I got pissed at her, reason unknown, and kicked them out but my roommate was pissed at me for having them over in the first place and wouldn't talk to me. I got into the shower and told my roommate that she should keep an eye on them as they left because they would probably be "taking with them things they didn't deserve." In the end I saw them off and now the summo wrestler was the 'beautiful new face' from a few nights ago and we were walking down the most amazing forested pathway. I left them where the path met the main road and watched them walk into the sunrise feeling very nostalgic.
In class receiving praise for my presentation when an earthquake hit and the building collapsed. Screaming and smoke and a vague sense of wondering if 'it' had really been worth 'it'.
Several hours and glasses of red wine later... I do not want to be alone tonight. I do not seek a lover, just a companion. Someone to hold, or not. I miss my Lomito. (Don't let it go to your head, this is MY journal after all.) What triggered this all was me sitting around with friends discussing inane things when the topic of engagement came up. It seems so traditional in the abstract but during a pause in the conversation I ventured to consider the phenomenon specifically in reference to myself and quickly (matter of milliseconds) came to the conclusion that I am just not one of those people. I am a hopeless romantic who believes that I will ultimately end up alone. Other people have expressed having this feeling to me before and I told them they were crazy. But it hit me tonight; I seriously can't picture myself married despite how much I sort of want to be. I don't give a fuck about marriage in the traditional since, of course but I can't picture myself loving someone again, not I like used to. But even if I could, who would go there I wonder. Hmm, the wine must not be disagreeing with me. Perhaps with the sun more clarity will rise. Thank God this quarter is over!
I was taking missions into space in a very rickety ship and my mother kept begging me not to go because it was so dangerous but I was one of the few people in the whole world who do what ever it was I was doing up there. It involved lots of acrobatics and general hardship on my part and I recall feeling as though I had never been happier in my life.
There was a girl having sex in my bed with a very large man, sumo wrestler large, and talking to me the whole time. Mostly about how it took her a while to get used to so much flesh but how now she really liked it and was proud of herself for having over come her vanity and shallowness. If fact, she especially liked how his weight felt on top of her, comforting she said. I got pissed at her, reason unknown, and kicked them out but my roommate was pissed at me for having them over in the first place and wouldn't talk to me. I got into the shower and told my roommate that she should keep an eye on them as they left because they would probably be "taking with them things they didn't deserve." In the end I saw them off and now the summo wrestler was the 'beautiful new face' from a few nights ago and we were walking down the most amazing forested pathway. I left them where the path met the main road and watched them walk into the sunrise feeling very nostalgic.
In class receiving praise for my presentation when an earthquake hit and the building collapsed. Screaming and smoke and a vague sense of wondering if 'it' had really been worth 'it'.
Several hours and glasses of red wine later... I do not want to be alone tonight. I do not seek a lover, just a companion. Someone to hold, or not. I miss my Lomito. (Don't let it go to your head, this is MY journal after all.) What triggered this all was me sitting around with friends discussing inane things when the topic of engagement came up. It seems so traditional in the abstract but during a pause in the conversation I ventured to consider the phenomenon specifically in reference to myself and quickly (matter of milliseconds) came to the conclusion that I am just not one of those people. I am a hopeless romantic who believes that I will ultimately end up alone. Other people have expressed having this feeling to me before and I told them they were crazy. But it hit me tonight; I seriously can't picture myself married despite how much I sort of want to be. I don't give a fuck about marriage in the traditional since, of course but I can't picture myself loving someone again, not I like used to. But even if I could, who would go there I wonder. Hmm, the wine must not be disagreeing with me. Perhaps with the sun more clarity will rise. Thank God this quarter is over!