more dreamin'
this one is already fuzzy, even though i woke up like ten minutes ago:
part i:
everyone is sitting on a couch, it's night. my old friend andy is dating this girl from a different group of people- she's tall and i always told her she should audition for americas next top model (in reality). he's cuddling and whispering things to her, and i grab him and ask him what exactly he told her and he said he told my secret about the threesome (which threesome? this was unclear). i climbed on top of her and she said she couldn't be friends with me or something, so i slapped her in the face a couple times. i remember slapping many people in the face and biting their fingers in this dream- possibly this little kind of hipster ex-drug addict i know, possibly my friend cat, all because andy kept telling my secrets. i ended up outside, near my old old old childhood best friends new apartment- there were stairs in front of it and a sign that said something on the front. i think she wasn't planning on letting me come in.
part ii:
this had a lot to do with smoking pot, i think. i was running around at some new school place with all these kids i didn't know and i don't remember a lot. i eventually ended up at a book sale with diego. he was being a really good person and holding my hand, and then did something really honorable with a black guy and said black guy's child.
part iii:
i lost my damn phone. when i woke up it took me a second to realize i had been dreaming, and was totally freaking out.
not as much detail as i want but worth it- these dreams were very emotionally real and i thought the andy part was real when i woke up. it was strange how i kept waking up and then sleeping and having the plot continue like that. all three parts were linked, i just wrote them in chunks i could remember.
in other news, i have gotten into the college of my choice and snabbed a copy of 'I Am Charlotte Simmons' for a mere two dollar bills.
Monday, March 30
Thursday, March 26
DREAMZDREAMSDREAMING
MORE WEIRDNESS IN MY SUBCONCIOUS LAST NIGHT
i was on some college campus somewhere with an old friend and a friend that i knew through her. and this girl holli was there. we went to this club and i was wearing a button down shirt, but it was unbuttoned and i wasn't wearing a bra so my tits were just out and all over the damn place. it was dark and the music was loud and things were really round, like the shape of the room was a circle.
the next part i remember was being in some kind of walgreens/cvs store on the way back from that club- i buttoned up my shirt and was really embarrassed that i had been wearing it like that. my friend said i had been bitching about not having lotion all night so we were in the walgreens so i could buy some. i picked up a magazine in the walgreens and i picked up a magazine that was kind of like this month's vanity fair (with seth rogan and all of them) but it had all these people from sex and the city and other shows and before i know it i look in the mirror and i'm charlotte from sex and the city and it's my wedding day. and i have these weird dreadlocks.
so i get my hair fixed because it's my wedding day and i keep switching off between being carrie and being charlotte and and i'm in my house (my real life house) and it's mid afternoon (i can tell from the light) and then i walk into my parent's house and carrie (i'm charlotte at this point) is sleeping with my fiance on the morning of my wedding. i suddenly have a pair of scissors in my hand so i STAB HER IN THE EYE. but like, the scissors go into the side of her eye, near her nose, the part that gets red and gunky and full of eye boogers and stuff...and her eye was just falling out of her head and all bloody and full of guts and shit. REALLY graphic stuff. but then she was fine and was telling me to get dressed and escape because the police were coming because i just stabbed someone in the eye with a pair of scissors on my wedding day. so i'm putting on this pink and black striped shirt and green leggins and running out of my house, and i get into my moms's car in the passenger seat, and carrie gets in the drivers seat, and there's this totally adorable little black toddler there, hugging me. he kind of looked like my ex's little brother, but he wasn't. and i figure out that he's my son, and he'll love me forever, and he's smiling and laughing and we're driving away and it's like 6:30 pm in early september and the sun is in that pre-sunset phase and everything is orangey-yellow and we're driving down main street towards the lake and then i woke up.
"you can fight the fire that's in your head"
really dodos?? i don't think so.
i was on some college campus somewhere with an old friend and a friend that i knew through her. and this girl holli was there. we went to this club and i was wearing a button down shirt, but it was unbuttoned and i wasn't wearing a bra so my tits were just out and all over the damn place. it was dark and the music was loud and things were really round, like the shape of the room was a circle.
the next part i remember was being in some kind of walgreens/cvs store on the way back from that club- i buttoned up my shirt and was really embarrassed that i had been wearing it like that. my friend said i had been bitching about not having lotion all night so we were in the walgreens so i could buy some. i picked up a magazine in the walgreens and i picked up a magazine that was kind of like this month's vanity fair (with seth rogan and all of them) but it had all these people from sex and the city and other shows and before i know it i look in the mirror and i'm charlotte from sex and the city and it's my wedding day. and i have these weird dreadlocks.
so i get my hair fixed because it's my wedding day and i keep switching off between being carrie and being charlotte and and i'm in my house (my real life house) and it's mid afternoon (i can tell from the light) and then i walk into my parent's house and carrie (i'm charlotte at this point) is sleeping with my fiance on the morning of my wedding. i suddenly have a pair of scissors in my hand so i STAB HER IN THE EYE. but like, the scissors go into the side of her eye, near her nose, the part that gets red and gunky and full of eye boogers and stuff...and her eye was just falling out of her head and all bloody and full of guts and shit. REALLY graphic stuff. but then she was fine and was telling me to get dressed and escape because the police were coming because i just stabbed someone in the eye with a pair of scissors on my wedding day. so i'm putting on this pink and black striped shirt and green leggins and running out of my house, and i get into my moms's car in the passenger seat, and carrie gets in the drivers seat, and there's this totally adorable little black toddler there, hugging me. he kind of looked like my ex's little brother, but he wasn't. and i figure out that he's my son, and he'll love me forever, and he's smiling and laughing and we're driving away and it's like 6:30 pm in early september and the sun is in that pre-sunset phase and everything is orangey-yellow and we're driving down main street towards the lake and then i woke up.
"you can fight the fire that's in your head"
really dodos?? i don't think so.
Wednesday, March 25
share the same space for a minute or two
conflicts:::::::'''';;;;;;;
i feel like i got really good at being single last summer. and i swore that i would just be single every summer forever until i got married, because there's always just something in the july air that makes it easier for me to flirt and fuck and kiss and drink beer while sitting on cute boys laps in backyards in north evanston, you know? and i look at all the summer dresses in the store and i get excited for the hunt and the chase and the texts and the taste of alcohol and cigs on this exciting and sensual new stranger's breath in the humid, green night air. and i get jealous of my single friends, and i want to gossip with them and talk about dick size and weird encounters in the dark and shave my legs not knowing whether or not they'll be touched or not- that's what's thrilling about shaving your legs in the first place.
but i guess i like my boyfriend a lot more than i intended to, and i guess things are getting pretty intimate, and i guess i think of him when i listen to naive melody now, and i guess i'm about to put that song on a mix for him because i want him to know how that song represents how i feel about him right now, and it's all pretty stable, and I'M not very stable, but IT'S pretty stable, all right, okay?
and i keep having these panic attacks. my dad told me that my mom thinks about suicide every day last saturday in the car, and now i'm just crying in the middle of class and throwing up when i lose my phone and getting these horrible headaches and i am constantly afraid.
so the logical thing to do would be to stick with the stable thing, because it's the only stable thing.
i feel like i got really good at being single last summer. and i swore that i would just be single every summer forever until i got married, because there's always just something in the july air that makes it easier for me to flirt and fuck and kiss and drink beer while sitting on cute boys laps in backyards in north evanston, you know? and i look at all the summer dresses in the store and i get excited for the hunt and the chase and the texts and the taste of alcohol and cigs on this exciting and sensual new stranger's breath in the humid, green night air. and i get jealous of my single friends, and i want to gossip with them and talk about dick size and weird encounters in the dark and shave my legs not knowing whether or not they'll be touched or not- that's what's thrilling about shaving your legs in the first place.
but i guess i like my boyfriend a lot more than i intended to, and i guess things are getting pretty intimate, and i guess i think of him when i listen to naive melody now, and i guess i'm about to put that song on a mix for him because i want him to know how that song represents how i feel about him right now, and it's all pretty stable, and I'M not very stable, but IT'S pretty stable, all right, okay?
and i keep having these panic attacks. my dad told me that my mom thinks about suicide every day last saturday in the car, and now i'm just crying in the middle of class and throwing up when i lose my phone and getting these horrible headaches and i am constantly afraid.
so the logical thing to do would be to stick with the stable thing, because it's the only stable thing.
Thursday, March 19
hedonistic me
SO i decided i will be more loyal to this thing. write periodically and make it worth reading and try to be a part of this silly online community.
but right now i am here to write about the three dreams i had last night, because they were vivid as hell and i want to remember them, and writing down your dreams is supposed to help you get towards lucid dreaming, which i want.
PARTI
I was at lollapalooza! It was the last night, and the main headliner was playing. It was Counting Crows, accompanied by Bob Dylan. I found a way to get to a private area near the side of the stage, so I had a really excellent view. I was able to be there because I had X's on my hands. The stage was HUGE, and the whole thing was not in Grant Park. It was in some really weird pavilion. I decided to leave where I was, which was really stupid because I had a great view. I think I was looking for someone, but I don't remember. It took me forever to find my way back to where I was. It was incredibly crowded. I couldn't reenter that private area when I got back. This totally sucked because Bono from U2 had joined Dylan and Counting Crows for their finale.
PARTII
My bedroom looked exactly like Francesca's in Highland Park. My manager and her boyfriend were there cleaning it. There was nothing in the store but clothes, and they were ALL MINE. The clothes like lined the walls. I grabbed shorts and a casual blue shirt and wore it. Then all my friends started coming over for my birthday party. They were all dressed in formal white clothes. My friend Laura had a huge black bow on her dress. I was totally under dressed and not happy about it. This girl who's in a bunch of my classes at Oakton showed up, also in white. I kept trying to change my clothes in my bedroom but just couldn't.
PARTIII.
All my friends said we had to leave for another party. It was supposed to be a "Finder Party" (this exists in real life. it's just a party at my friend Finder's parents' house.) but it was just at some weird, grungy location. There were A LOT of people from my high school there. I found out a girl that I was friends with sophmore year had died. I told this to a homeless looking man behind a counter. He was apparently a member of the Clockwork Orange punk tribute band the Adicts and was very distressed about this girl dying. He was really gray- gray clothes, gray skin, rotting teeth, etc. I started singing a Misfits song to him, something with the number 148 in it. Right at that moment, the dead girl's sister walked into the place and he ran up to her and started asking her if it was true that Becky (the dead girl) was actually dead. Her sister totally refused to talk to him, saying she didn't want to answer an questions about the situation. He totally attacked her. I totally freaked out and started running around screaming for help since he wouldn't stop physically attacking her and begging for answers about her sister's death. The guy that was voted "best looking" in our senior superlatives (in real life!) just shrugged his shoulders at me. I began to think that Laura had died too since I couldn't find her. I looked over and the girl's sister was finally giving the homeless looking punk rocker answers. The girl had died at a Finder party because she did too much coke. I talked to this girl that I was friends with/was scared of in high school and told her I was terrified of her and that's why we could never be friends. A really good friend of mine from high school started talking about how she had really let people know who she was and had really started being herself since graduation. I told her I didn't think so and that she was still totally fake and she got mad at me and laid down- her legs were REALLY hairy. Laura came in and was not dead after all.
I think in one of these dreams I had a mustache for a second but that's a very vague memory that I can't place anywhere.
I'm reading Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and it's really fabulous. Fiction is the best, I don't care what anyone says. What non-fiction reading can top a really great made up story? Really. Literature is for dreamers.
An ex-boyfriend continues to send me hilariously offensive facebook messages:
"hey we broke up and i found a new girl but is my dickk small?"
He does not give me hope for our country. Nothing really does.
My mom always said she didn't have many desires to visit other countries because she wanted to see all of the United States.
But why? This country is dying. My ancient history class has taught me that many great nations of people do not last long. As in a couple hundred years and they're just gone. I worry I will live to see the end of the United States, or even the end of all the nations in the world as we know them right now. It's not implausible.
but right now i am here to write about the three dreams i had last night, because they were vivid as hell and i want to remember them, and writing down your dreams is supposed to help you get towards lucid dreaming, which i want.
PARTI
I was at lollapalooza! It was the last night, and the main headliner was playing. It was Counting Crows, accompanied by Bob Dylan. I found a way to get to a private area near the side of the stage, so I had a really excellent view. I was able to be there because I had X's on my hands. The stage was HUGE, and the whole thing was not in Grant Park. It was in some really weird pavilion. I decided to leave where I was, which was really stupid because I had a great view. I think I was looking for someone, but I don't remember. It took me forever to find my way back to where I was. It was incredibly crowded. I couldn't reenter that private area when I got back. This totally sucked because Bono from U2 had joined Dylan and Counting Crows for their finale.
PARTII
My bedroom looked exactly like Francesca's in Highland Park. My manager and her boyfriend were there cleaning it. There was nothing in the store but clothes, and they were ALL MINE. The clothes like lined the walls. I grabbed shorts and a casual blue shirt and wore it. Then all my friends started coming over for my birthday party. They were all dressed in formal white clothes. My friend Laura had a huge black bow on her dress. I was totally under dressed and not happy about it. This girl who's in a bunch of my classes at Oakton showed up, also in white. I kept trying to change my clothes in my bedroom but just couldn't.
PARTIII.
All my friends said we had to leave for another party. It was supposed to be a "Finder Party" (this exists in real life. it's just a party at my friend Finder's parents' house.) but it was just at some weird, grungy location. There were A LOT of people from my high school there. I found out a girl that I was friends with sophmore year had died. I told this to a homeless looking man behind a counter. He was apparently a member of the Clockwork Orange punk tribute band the Adicts and was very distressed about this girl dying. He was really gray- gray clothes, gray skin, rotting teeth, etc. I started singing a Misfits song to him, something with the number 148 in it. Right at that moment, the dead girl's sister walked into the place and he ran up to her and started asking her if it was true that Becky (the dead girl) was actually dead. Her sister totally refused to talk to him, saying she didn't want to answer an questions about the situation. He totally attacked her. I totally freaked out and started running around screaming for help since he wouldn't stop physically attacking her and begging for answers about her sister's death. The guy that was voted "best looking" in our senior superlatives (in real life!) just shrugged his shoulders at me. I began to think that Laura had died too since I couldn't find her. I looked over and the girl's sister was finally giving the homeless looking punk rocker answers. The girl had died at a Finder party because she did too much coke. I talked to this girl that I was friends with/was scared of in high school and told her I was terrified of her and that's why we could never be friends. A really good friend of mine from high school started talking about how she had really let people know who she was and had really started being herself since graduation. I told her I didn't think so and that she was still totally fake and she got mad at me and laid down- her legs were REALLY hairy. Laura came in and was not dead after all.
I think in one of these dreams I had a mustache for a second but that's a very vague memory that I can't place anywhere.
I'm reading Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and it's really fabulous. Fiction is the best, I don't care what anyone says. What non-fiction reading can top a really great made up story? Really. Literature is for dreamers.
An ex-boyfriend continues to send me hilariously offensive facebook messages:
"hey we broke up and i found a new girl but is my dickk small?"
He does not give me hope for our country. Nothing really does.
My mom always said she didn't have many desires to visit other countries because she wanted to see all of the United States.
But why? This country is dying. My ancient history class has taught me that many great nations of people do not last long. As in a couple hundred years and they're just gone. I worry I will live to see the end of the United States, or even the end of all the nations in the world as we know them right now. It's not implausible.
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