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This weekend was really fun. Finally managed to navigate my project into me having three days of downtime from friday to sunday, and I drove up to Champaign, IL with Ariel and Adam. Adam visited Ariel's parents and I got to spend an entire weekend with Rachael, who is an amazing and awesome person to be around.
Eaten alive by mosquitoes while watching fireworks on friday, and Rachael and I had a cookout saturday (she's fun to shop with ^_^ ). Yeah, I totally have a crush on her, for the few people in the world who don't know ^^;;
Helena and I went out sunday night once I got back to St Louis. We had dinner and watched stupid internet movies and watched Young Frankenstein. And we kissed!
^____^ mmm Helena Helena Helena. yaaaaaaay *melts on the inside*
We're going clubbing tonight. Should be fun and exciting, and I'm hanging out with and having a cookout with my friend Paul beforehand.
I had a nightmare this morning, though. I was at some kind of loud nightclub in the middle of a desolate city, and it was kind of like being on the periphery of a level in a game: everything outside of the club itself is dark and vague and empty and not quite there, like it's there but it's inaccessible backdrop. I was on the outside feeling strange and I wanted to get out. People were filtering in and out but they were as plastic as mannequins and as inaccessible and distant as the skyline I could barely see through haze. And then a path opened up and there was an attractive-looking man there saying 'quick, this way!' like he was showing me the way out. I can't remember and I didn't notice anything about his face, his features; it was a blind spot to me but I knew he was attractive. I remember feeling like he had a bag over his head, and that was why I couldn't see his pretty face.
I ran off after him as he led me by the hand through concrete alleys and twisting parking garages, and we went deeper and deeper past shut doors with nothing behind them and it felt like the entire universe aside from the angular, dimly lit concrete cave I was in was an empty void. I felt more and more scared as he led me forward and I felt like it was a trap. The boy seemed to be hurt, in a deep, traumatic, angry ghost sense, like a looping two-second black and white film clip of a hooded man clawing at a cage. And then suddenly, as I walked into another open, empty underground garage, I felt a surge of pure, liquid hate behind me from where the boy was, and something enormous and fearsomely strong leapt on me and grabbed me from behind. I felt rather than heard the thought, "It's all your fault" and a string of numbers popped into my mind. And somehow the numbers were connected to everything about that world, the hate and the pain that I felt from the presence, the emptiness of the maze of concrete and the plasticness of the club patrons. And then whatever grabbed me let out a hellish roar that jerked me awake as it echoed in my head.
I didn't open my eyes, and it took an hour more for my heart to calm down enough to get out of bed.
Here's a secret that only one person knows so far, but I'm now telling the world. I am terrified of ghost stories. Haunting stories, creepy stories, paranormal stories, nightmares, shadows in the closet, horror movies and all kinds of things like that. Intellectually I know there's nothing to them, but that doesn't help on a primal gut-level, and especially if I've just watched a scary movie or had a nightmare, nothing in the world can get me to move towards dark places, and light only does so much to calm my nerves.
Eaten alive by mosquitoes while watching fireworks on friday, and Rachael and I had a cookout saturday (she's fun to shop with ^_^ ). Yeah, I totally have a crush on her, for the few people in the world who don't know ^^;;
Helena and I went out sunday night once I got back to St Louis. We had dinner and watched stupid internet movies and watched Young Frankenstein. And we kissed!
^____^ mmm Helena Helena Helena. yaaaaaaay *melts on the inside*
We're going clubbing tonight. Should be fun and exciting, and I'm hanging out with and having a cookout with my friend Paul beforehand.
I had a nightmare this morning, though. I was at some kind of loud nightclub in the middle of a desolate city, and it was kind of like being on the periphery of a level in a game: everything outside of the club itself is dark and vague and empty and not quite there, like it's there but it's inaccessible backdrop. I was on the outside feeling strange and I wanted to get out. People were filtering in and out but they were as plastic as mannequins and as inaccessible and distant as the skyline I could barely see through haze. And then a path opened up and there was an attractive-looking man there saying 'quick, this way!' like he was showing me the way out. I can't remember and I didn't notice anything about his face, his features; it was a blind spot to me but I knew he was attractive. I remember feeling like he had a bag over his head, and that was why I couldn't see his pretty face.
I ran off after him as he led me by the hand through concrete alleys and twisting parking garages, and we went deeper and deeper past shut doors with nothing behind them and it felt like the entire universe aside from the angular, dimly lit concrete cave I was in was an empty void. I felt more and more scared as he led me forward and I felt like it was a trap. The boy seemed to be hurt, in a deep, traumatic, angry ghost sense, like a looping two-second black and white film clip of a hooded man clawing at a cage. And then suddenly, as I walked into another open, empty underground garage, I felt a surge of pure, liquid hate behind me from where the boy was, and something enormous and fearsomely strong leapt on me and grabbed me from behind. I felt rather than heard the thought, "It's all your fault" and a string of numbers popped into my mind. And somehow the numbers were connected to everything about that world, the hate and the pain that I felt from the presence, the emptiness of the maze of concrete and the plasticness of the club patrons. And then whatever grabbed me let out a hellish roar that jerked me awake as it echoed in my head.
I didn't open my eyes, and it took an hour more for my heart to calm down enough to get out of bed.
Here's a secret that only one person knows so far, but I'm now telling the world. I am terrified of ghost stories. Haunting stories, creepy stories, paranormal stories, nightmares, shadows in the closet, horror movies and all kinds of things like that. Intellectually I know there's nothing to them, but that doesn't help on a primal gut-level, and especially if I've just watched a scary movie or had a nightmare, nothing in the world can get me to move towards dark places, and light only does so much to calm my nerves.