My subconscious is a hopeless romantic.
I had a crazy real dream that should have been a movie. Allow me to tell it to you. I should point out that this makes 3 consecutive dreams about romantic types of things.
I was at a school, but it was the holidays. Kind of like staying at a boarding school over Christmas. Some of the students were coming back again for early assignments or activities. We had a really cool day of whale-seeking.
Whale seeking was basically getting a pair of goggles and a bucket of bait fish and swimming through and unrealistically populous ocean looking for whales. I did see a cuttlefish though. It was very psychadellic. My brother's fiancee was with me (evil bible school chick) and I had to go with her because she was sick and didn't get to go with everyone else.
When we came back there were these older men that were cleaning the salt out of the school's aquarium filters. There was one old guy who looked really sad so we were suddenly friends and he gave me extra fish so that I had a better chance of seeing whales.
Anyway, the next day I was running around trying to find someone to hand an assignment to and I was suuuuper stressed because it was important. I was going to look in the basement of this old chapel when I found out there was a choir practice going on there. I was passing through when I noticed my once and future roomie (I know, whaaaa?) was in the choir. She also had a really weird solo and she did a little dance. It was a kids' song too, but I can't remember which.
There were also two really notable guys in the choir. One I knew, and he could sing really spectacularly and I could hear him stand out underneath all the female voices. The other one I just recognized as a new guy in the school. We made eye contact as the roomie was finishing up her solo and it made me squiggle inside, but I didn't know why.
Then I continued searching around the chapel for this person to give the assignment to and I accidentally came out of a door onto a walkway behind the choir. (They were all seated like movie theatre style with the back really high up so I could actually see everyone from both the front and the back.) Anyway, I had been humming to myself and as soon as I realized the choir was there I stopped. Someone finished the musical phrase though, which startled me because not many people know the song "How Could I Ever Know" from the Secret Garden. It was the new guy and we were looking right at each other.
I scampered away again.
Choir practice was over then, and I was still looking for this assignment person. I was walking up these stairs when I realized new guy was walking down them toward me. We kind of stopped when we got to each other. Then we both said hi and started talking. I completely forgot about the assignment and I didn't care that people were waiting on me in other places. The only important thing was this peculiar connection with this guy.
At first it was really weird to talk. We didn't know if we had anything in common. I knew we would get along great as soon as he said that he "had never had this kind of mystical connection to someone before." I really enjoyed the way he talked. We were leaning on a wall in the evening just talking about everything.
I enjoyed his conversation so much that I ws annoyed to wake up. I was also annoyed because I woke up at like 12 noon exactly after only 3.5hrs of sleep. Who does that?
Anyway, it is strange to me that in my dreams I am a romantic. I'm probably repressing all that in my waking mind.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
So I had my second psychotherapy session today and I suppose this is a peculiar thing to say but I really enjoyed it.
We talked about emotions and how I have difficulty identifying and expressing them. I don't have problems with the big obvious ones. I know when I'm angry or happy or scared but the reason I often feel like I'm some sort of emotionally unstable roller coaster is that I don't detect the subtle emotional stages between "just normal" and rage. She told me I need to find words for all the less noticeable stages in between and it will help. So I now haz wHeel!
I know it is weird of me to talk about emotions and so forth. It feels a little pecuilar because I'm not used to it and a little unsure. It is good for me though. Maybe I won't be so socially challenged if I can get this sorted out?
Edited to add: My mother just told me (only a day late) that my brother's fiancee had the second baby yesterday! Her name is Elora, no middle name yet, and she's all healthy and stuff. Apparently though Monique had like blood transfusions and and mad problems and nearly died. But she is ok now. My mother didn't seem too concerned, which is kind of worrisome to me....
We talked about emotions and how I have difficulty identifying and expressing them. I don't have problems with the big obvious ones. I know when I'm angry or happy or scared but the reason I often feel like I'm some sort of emotionally unstable roller coaster is that I don't detect the subtle emotional stages between "just normal" and rage. She told me I need to find words for all the less noticeable stages in between and it will help. So I now haz wHeel!
I know it is weird of me to talk about emotions and so forth. It feels a little pecuilar because I'm not used to it and a little unsure. It is good for me though. Maybe I won't be so socially challenged if I can get this sorted out?
Edited to add: My mother just told me (only a day late) that my brother's fiancee had the second baby yesterday! Her name is Elora, no middle name yet, and she's all healthy and stuff. Apparently though Monique had like blood transfusions and and mad problems and nearly died. But she is ok now. My mother didn't seem too concerned, which is kind of worrisome to me....
Monday, January 18, 2010
From now on...
I will:
Not be on Facebook until Vanessa caves and asks for her password.
Drink more H2O
Actually do my homework
Listen to the Beatles even more
Attempt more stuff like this!
Not be on Facebook until Vanessa caves and asks for her password.
Drink more H2O
Actually do my homework
Listen to the Beatles even more
Attempt more stuff like this!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Your Advantage
I'm super annoyed because a song I super love and recently bought from iTunes just turned up as the single of the week and is therefore free to download. Augh! 99cents that i could have saved!
This means, however, that I can tell you to go to the iTunes store and immediately download Charlie Winston's "In Your Hands"
Soooo funky. Sooooo delightful
This means, however, that I can tell you to go to the iTunes store and immediately download Charlie Winston's "In Your Hands"
Soooo funky. Sooooo delightful
Friday, January 15, 2010
This has been coming for a while
It has nothing much to do with how I feel at the moment.
We stand, as a species, on a very thin membrane. This veneer we call society; a veil called civilization that we pull over the basic animal to try and make something more of ourselves. Our highways and cities scratched into the patient earth do not comfort me. Walking along this road I hear the prehistoric demons of the trees whispering behind the curtain. Their shadowy voices pierce my armour of science and education.
Into the spaces in my coat fly the wind witches. Their skinny fingers pick and pull at every seam and they whip sand at my eyes. Their whispers spill into my brain. What right do you have to walk along so safely? How dare you try to protect yourself against nature! Do you believe for a second that you are any less an animal than the shivering fledgling or the cowering mice? Throw off this shameful pretence of enlightenment. It is nothing but a mulish refusal to realize that one day you too will die. We, the wind witches, will carry away your ashes, and the earth will suck up your bones, and you will not be any longer.
My mind pushes out the wind and seeks Shakespeare. "What a piece of worke is a man! how noble in reason? how infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing how expresse and admirable? in action, how like an Angel? in apprehension, how like a God?" (that's from Hamlet). I see the wind push against the houses on the edge of a field. The skinny, witchy fingers do not reach the smiles within. The tree demons scream from their receding forests, but the cars that drive among them don't turn, and they don't tremble.
I step off the hard road onto the earth and it bends to cushion me as it bends to cushion the footfalls of a fox or a rabbit. The earth will love her animals. I want to apologize for so selfishly wearing shoes. I do not think the earth is our mother. A good mother would punish such abusive children for the destruction and willful ignorance. The earth is our grandmother. She watches our lives sorrowfully and quietly, wishing we would change but loving us too much to ever refuse us anything. Our mother died so long ago that we don't remember her; every war we fight amongst ourselves is just pissing on her gravestone.
It is day now. The snow and the wind are off doing their thing somewhere else. Just me and the sun now. I smile at him. He smiles at me. He smiles at everyone. He is a jolly old man, a friend of Grandmother Earth. He lives too far away to see what we've done to her. All he hears of us is the stuff she tells him. "Look, that one wrote a story about me!", or "This one loves my trees. How lovely." He just smiles away at us a bit blankly. He forgets his youth now. He also forgets he is old. He has no days to cut up his existence; he exists statically and constantly and forgetfully. It is alright, dear Sun. I will still smile at you, old man, because you are good company to our long-suffering Grandmother, and you will smile back although you don't recognize me.
Daylight is falling away. As nature breathes sighs of relief, our cities light up. Every street light is a defiant torch. We will NOT be good and go to sleep. We want to drink our lattes and listen to our rock and roll and read our books and go on with our lives. We don't want to cave in to this natural weakness, this restfullness that comes with the night.
Pity our belligerence, all you natural beings. It started because we wanted it, but we can't stop now. We are too scared to turn off the street lights because of the trees we have killed and the animals we have killed and all of ourselves that we have killed.
We stand, as a species, on a very thin membrane. This veneer we call society; a veil called civilization that we pull over the basic animal to try and make something more of ourselves. Our highways and cities scratched into the patient earth do not comfort me. Walking along this road I hear the prehistoric demons of the trees whispering behind the curtain. Their shadowy voices pierce my armour of science and education.
Into the spaces in my coat fly the wind witches. Their skinny fingers pick and pull at every seam and they whip sand at my eyes. Their whispers spill into my brain. What right do you have to walk along so safely? How dare you try to protect yourself against nature! Do you believe for a second that you are any less an animal than the shivering fledgling or the cowering mice? Throw off this shameful pretence of enlightenment. It is nothing but a mulish refusal to realize that one day you too will die. We, the wind witches, will carry away your ashes, and the earth will suck up your bones, and you will not be any longer.
My mind pushes out the wind and seeks Shakespeare. "What a piece of worke is a man! how noble in reason? how infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing how expresse and admirable? in action, how like an Angel? in apprehension, how like a God?" (that's from Hamlet). I see the wind push against the houses on the edge of a field. The skinny, witchy fingers do not reach the smiles within. The tree demons scream from their receding forests, but the cars that drive among them don't turn, and they don't tremble.
I step off the hard road onto the earth and it bends to cushion me as it bends to cushion the footfalls of a fox or a rabbit. The earth will love her animals. I want to apologize for so selfishly wearing shoes. I do not think the earth is our mother. A good mother would punish such abusive children for the destruction and willful ignorance. The earth is our grandmother. She watches our lives sorrowfully and quietly, wishing we would change but loving us too much to ever refuse us anything. Our mother died so long ago that we don't remember her; every war we fight amongst ourselves is just pissing on her gravestone.
It is day now. The snow and the wind are off doing their thing somewhere else. Just me and the sun now. I smile at him. He smiles at me. He smiles at everyone. He is a jolly old man, a friend of Grandmother Earth. He lives too far away to see what we've done to her. All he hears of us is the stuff she tells him. "Look, that one wrote a story about me!", or "This one loves my trees. How lovely." He just smiles away at us a bit blankly. He forgets his youth now. He also forgets he is old. He has no days to cut up his existence; he exists statically and constantly and forgetfully. It is alright, dear Sun. I will still smile at you, old man, because you are good company to our long-suffering Grandmother, and you will smile back although you don't recognize me.
Daylight is falling away. As nature breathes sighs of relief, our cities light up. Every street light is a defiant torch. We will NOT be good and go to sleep. We want to drink our lattes and listen to our rock and roll and read our books and go on with our lives. We don't want to cave in to this natural weakness, this restfullness that comes with the night.
Pity our belligerence, all you natural beings. It started because we wanted it, but we can't stop now. We are too scared to turn off the street lights because of the trees we have killed and the animals we have killed and all of ourselves that we have killed.
Hearing
Why is it that people just talk to me about stuff? I must look really interested in everything they say to get this kind of stuff from the guys at work:
Guy 1, while we were putting endless stickers on endless bags: "I think my girlfriend is cheating on me with another girl."
Guy 2, while I was working and he was talking to me: entire life story. legits. Jail time and all. and his opinion on everything from computers to his parents to relationships to....et cetera.
Guy 3, at various times: why he hates absolutely everyone in the universe except his daughter (who is like a year old).
Guy 4, on break when I want to do homework or read: random stuff about nature, real estate, or FREAKING WILD PIGS that he's found "really unique" and thinks that I should know.
I'm not going to say I don't enjoy listening. I really do like to hear what people think. I believe however, that they're using me as a dumping station of sorts because I don't interrupt (usually) and I always passively agree with whatever they say (mostly cuz I'm not paying very close attention). So I guess it makes them feel good that someone takes the time to ingest everything they say and has the decency to look thoughtful and interested and giggle in the right spots. I think that a lot of people don't get a chance to just talk about themselves and be taken seriously and listened to in general. Maybe it's one of those things I'm supposed to do for these people because some of them have a rough time of life and it's not costing me anything (except in some instances my social comfort).
I guess this is kind of what I mean. And I seem to have a lot in common with that guy figure-wise.... :D
OH
MY
Gosh!!
THE funniest single work-boots wearing smiley person just sauntered into my house. My day has been made by this most ridiculous of persons. He just had such a big goofy smile. He's apparently putting new windows in my room... I didn't know this. Where do I sleep, mom? Oh, I don't. That's nice....
Homework day!
Guy 1, while we were putting endless stickers on endless bags: "I think my girlfriend is cheating on me with another girl."
Guy 2, while I was working and he was talking to me: entire life story. legits. Jail time and all. and his opinion on everything from computers to his parents to relationships to....et cetera.
Guy 3, at various times: why he hates absolutely everyone in the universe except his daughter (who is like a year old).
Guy 4, on break when I want to do homework or read: random stuff about nature, real estate, or FREAKING WILD PIGS that he's found "really unique" and thinks that I should know.
I'm not going to say I don't enjoy listening. I really do like to hear what people think. I believe however, that they're using me as a dumping station of sorts because I don't interrupt (usually) and I always passively agree with whatever they say (mostly cuz I'm not paying very close attention). So I guess it makes them feel good that someone takes the time to ingest everything they say and has the decency to look thoughtful and interested and giggle in the right spots. I think that a lot of people don't get a chance to just talk about themselves and be taken seriously and listened to in general. Maybe it's one of those things I'm supposed to do for these people because some of them have a rough time of life and it's not costing me anything (except in some instances my social comfort).
I guess this is kind of what I mean. And I seem to have a lot in common with that guy figure-wise.... :D
OH
MY
Gosh!!
THE funniest single work-boots wearing smiley person just sauntered into my house. My day has been made by this most ridiculous of persons. He just had such a big goofy smile. He's apparently putting new windows in my room... I didn't know this. Where do I sleep, mom? Oh, I don't. That's nice....
Homework day!
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