Another one....
January 9th 2009 00:22
When you dream, what do you feel? Do you feel anything at all? I suppose, what Im really asking is, do your dreams assault with sensation, or simply play out like movie screens? Mine always make me FEEL it, not just see it. I smell, I taste, and the sensations, oh, they attack my skin.
My boyfriend hasnt called me. I dont blame him. He's probably sick of me by now. Every day I wait for him to break up with me, especially now that his sister has entreated him with a problem she wants kept from the rest of the family. Dont you just love it when people make their problems your problems? She's even keeping it from her boyfriend, and its something he should know about if you get my drift. I suppose Im jealous. I have brothers, but if I called them up and said, "oh, I know your hard up right now, but I need cash. Quite a bit of cash. And you cant tell anyone. Its a secret." They would tell me to get fucked. Just like that. Get fucked Arnie they'd say. Go tell mum or something. Deal with it yourself. But thats the thing about my man - he's a great guy. He wont do that. He'll help everyone. Heres the clincher - he wasnt like that when I met him. I made him that way. I gave him my goodness, and now he's a good man. He gave me all his evil, and now Im a heartless selfish bitch thats finally going to destroy that goodness in a way I never could when it lived within me.
I told him yesterday, the human is hardwired to cheat. We dont know what mating for life is. He said thats not very reassuring. Im thinking, Im not TRYING to be reassuring asshole - Im trying to flash the warning lights at you. Im telling you run, do not walk, to the nearest exit. Save yourself now.
Because I am a deep gurgling drain that sucks in all the good stuff and gives nothing. I always have been and probably always will be. Really, the quicker he leaves me the quicker the decent can begin. We are really just delaying the inevitable, and I hate that shit. As soon as he leaves me I can make the big break into the sex industry, my family will disown me (oh, finally, thank god!) and I can be fucking rich and depraved.
But my real purpose here is that I had a dream last night....I havnt had one like this for so long. I thought I was over it. Ive been writing a book about it see, all my trauma, and I didnt think it would work, had no confidence in it, but it DID it really worked, the fear just melted out of me. I saw things so clearly, and Im not even done writing the fucking thing. But I thought it was done.
My dream started with my best mate. We had all this alcohol, and we wanted a girls night like we used to have. We both live in full houses, so we rented a hotel room. Somehow, along the way, we meet the Ex. He comes with us and he's like he was in the old days, not how I knew him last. Shy. Sweet almost, in his niavety. Not the fucking violent monster he became. But we drink. My mate and I fall asleep. Ex watches me sleeping, I wake up and bust him at it. We talk, it was purposeful, it meant something, but now Im awake I cant remember it. So I take off for a bit and it seems we are being bombed or theres a natural disaster or something. I walk into a hospital thats crumbling down and find this chick who cant or wont get out of bed. She's from a tv show I think...She opens her arms and offers me comfort and I take it. Then, as Im leaving, I see the Ex. The halls are falling down, dust is crumbling, people are running and screaming. And he's there, arms stretched out, palms up, like a crucifix, a startling white shirt flapping from his form.
What does it mean? I hate these dreams, I dont want them. I prefer the nightmares, the dark forest, the chase, the rope. Waking in sweat and fear. Because these dreams...These ambiguous ones...They create curiousity. They create tenderness. They create urges to seek out the Ex and see....Just see...But thats dangerous fire, right there, because he is not shy, not sweet, he's a vicious monster and to follow the thread to his lair would be trouble, big trouble, no matter which way it went....
But I dont see how to escape. I dont see how to move on, until I see, until I know, the truth...Even if there is no truth but that which we percieve, I would like to know his version of it...But I have the problem of Bill. I am completely incapable of believing anything he says....
Well. At least the boyfriend called. So trusting. So good. I dont deserve such a good man to wreck when there are good women who will treasure and coddle rather than rip and tear and create uncertainty...
And, as usual, I shall live in my mind, going over sensation, again, and again, and make no action...It seems the safest.
My boyfriend hasnt called me. I dont blame him. He's probably sick of me by now. Every day I wait for him to break up with me, especially now that his sister has entreated him with a problem she wants kept from the rest of the family. Dont you just love it when people make their problems your problems? She's even keeping it from her boyfriend, and its something he should know about if you get my drift. I suppose Im jealous. I have brothers, but if I called them up and said, "oh, I know your hard up right now, but I need cash. Quite a bit of cash. And you cant tell anyone. Its a secret." They would tell me to get fucked. Just like that. Get fucked Arnie they'd say. Go tell mum or something. Deal with it yourself. But thats the thing about my man - he's a great guy. He wont do that. He'll help everyone. Heres the clincher - he wasnt like that when I met him. I made him that way. I gave him my goodness, and now he's a good man. He gave me all his evil, and now Im a heartless selfish bitch thats finally going to destroy that goodness in a way I never could when it lived within me.
I told him yesterday, the human is hardwired to cheat. We dont know what mating for life is. He said thats not very reassuring. Im thinking, Im not TRYING to be reassuring asshole - Im trying to flash the warning lights at you. Im telling you run, do not walk, to the nearest exit. Save yourself now.
Because I am a deep gurgling drain that sucks in all the good stuff and gives nothing. I always have been and probably always will be. Really, the quicker he leaves me the quicker the decent can begin. We are really just delaying the inevitable, and I hate that shit. As soon as he leaves me I can make the big break into the sex industry, my family will disown me (oh, finally, thank god!) and I can be fucking rich and depraved.
But my real purpose here is that I had a dream last night....I havnt had one like this for so long. I thought I was over it. Ive been writing a book about it see, all my trauma, and I didnt think it would work, had no confidence in it, but it DID it really worked, the fear just melted out of me. I saw things so clearly, and Im not even done writing the fucking thing. But I thought it was done.
My dream started with my best mate. We had all this alcohol, and we wanted a girls night like we used to have. We both live in full houses, so we rented a hotel room. Somehow, along the way, we meet the Ex. He comes with us and he's like he was in the old days, not how I knew him last. Shy. Sweet almost, in his niavety. Not the fucking violent monster he became. But we drink. My mate and I fall asleep. Ex watches me sleeping, I wake up and bust him at it. We talk, it was purposeful, it meant something, but now Im awake I cant remember it. So I take off for a bit and it seems we are being bombed or theres a natural disaster or something. I walk into a hospital thats crumbling down and find this chick who cant or wont get out of bed. She's from a tv show I think...She opens her arms and offers me comfort and I take it. Then, as Im leaving, I see the Ex. The halls are falling down, dust is crumbling, people are running and screaming. And he's there, arms stretched out, palms up, like a crucifix, a startling white shirt flapping from his form.
What does it mean? I hate these dreams, I dont want them. I prefer the nightmares, the dark forest, the chase, the rope. Waking in sweat and fear. Because these dreams...These ambiguous ones...They create curiousity. They create tenderness. They create urges to seek out the Ex and see....Just see...But thats dangerous fire, right there, because he is not shy, not sweet, he's a vicious monster and to follow the thread to his lair would be trouble, big trouble, no matter which way it went....
But I dont see how to escape. I dont see how to move on, until I see, until I know, the truth...Even if there is no truth but that which we percieve, I would like to know his version of it...But I have the problem of Bill. I am completely incapable of believing anything he says....
Well. At least the boyfriend called. So trusting. So good. I dont deserve such a good man to wreck when there are good women who will treasure and coddle rather than rip and tear and create uncertainty...
And, as usual, I shall live in my mind, going over sensation, again, and again, and make no action...It seems the safest.
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