PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I've been meaning to do this for ages but I tend to fight myself on absolutely everything.

In this entry, I'll be keeping track of my dreams as best I can. I'll be as descriptive as possible and do my best to recall, because if I can't have super powers during the day, I think that I deserve them late in the evening.

This will also be an exercise in honesty and exposure, because like most everyone else, my dreams are confusing, stupid and embarrassing.

My apologies, as this isn't really poetic or even something close to some sort of narrative. Maybe I can write it through that sort of a scope?

Anyway, I hope you find it interesting at the very least.

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(Some time last week, I can't really remember the date)

I'm traveling in a car in the passenger seat. I don't recall looking to see who the driver was and I wasn't really concerned about it at the time. Eventually, we arrive at a house. I understand that we're here looking for something specific. I'm pretty sure that, at first, it was marijuana. The place looks pretty average on the outside if not a little ratty here or there. It's getting pretty late and the sun has long since gone down.

I follow my driver inside, still never really looking at him. Pretty sure it's a guy. Once inside, we are greeted by a large group of black men and women who seem to be in the middle of some kind of social get-together. Suddenly I realize that we're also traveling with a young boy ourselves, who is also black, and he is quickly welcomed by our hosts. The driver and I are generally ignored in favor of the young boy, but we are lead as a group deeper into the house, where we come upon a large, dirty room filled with computers and recording equipment. The boy is brought into the center of the room and is asked to perform as one of the men sits at one of the computer stations. Hip-hop beats surge and the boy begins to rap with skill and flash. The crowd of people around us cheer him on merrily while I simply stand around, somewhat confused as to why I'm here. My driver, meanwhile, seems to be getting irritated. After the song ends and the boy is showered with praise and adoration from our hosts, I turn to my driver and finally get a good look at him.

I have no idea why, but he's suddenly Squidward.

Yes, from Spongebob Squarepants.

I used to love that show.

He is outraged that this young boy that has accompanied us is being reduced to "Singing Rappah" when he is apparently so much better than that. The crowd of people is getting restless and aggravated with Squidward's ranting. As quickly as we came, we are asked to depart. Suddenly I am alone in the house, and I begin a long and arduous journey to find my way out. I seem to have found an exit, but I immediately realize that I had lost something... My wallet, maybe? Or perhaps my cell phone. One of those essential things that comes with you everywhere you go. So I turn back and struggle to find the strange basement room with all of the computers. I ask many people that pass me by, who all ignore me or blow me off. I find a room that looks eerily similar, but somehow I know that it isn't the one that I'm looking for. A woman with two children suddenly descends from the stairs and I ask her for aid. She seems frustrated with her kids, and tells me that she can't help me.

I turn and see a small plastic bag sitting on a table crowded with random, useless debris. I can tell that it contains marijuana, and I figure with how unorganized and disheveled this place is, nobody would miss it. The moment I pluck it from its place, three men enter the room and witness my petty crime. I immediately try to play it off as if I was just examining the bag, but they know better, and tell me that it's time that I leave before I face the consequences. Quickly forgetting about whatever it was that I was searching for, I begin to run for the door. I get lost continuously for minutes at a time in many dimly-lit rooms that all look exactly the same.

Finally, I wake up, completely fucking baffled.

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(This was also last week, when I was sick and malnourished and tripping balls every time I closed my eyes)

I'm sitting in the driver's seat of my car. I know exactly where I am immediately: parked in a small lot behind a middle school that I live fairly close to. The parking lot that I'm sitting in doesn't actually exist, but besides that, my surroundings are all very familiar and basically the same.

It's the dead of night and the moon is high and bright. I'm not sure if it was full, but if it wasn't it was very close. There are gray clouds littered haphazardly throughout the sky, moving quickly from left to right. The evening air feels crisp and exceptionally clean, and everything is absolutely silent. I take no time to look behind me at the street. I simply watch the sky and remain still for some time.

All at once I realize that my car has been damaged in a brutal way. Much of the top of my car has been completely torn away, all of the windows are riddled with what look to be bullet holes, my windshield is partially shattered, etc. I'm not alarmed by any of this, but I haven't the faintest idea as to the cause. I raise my right hand and I find that I'm grasping a large, old-time silver revolver. It's kind of beautiful, as far as guns go: perfectly preserved, shining brilliantly and very intimidating. I check the... Chamber, I guess? And I find that it is empty. No bullets at all. But just then I find that I'm also holding something in my left hand. I raise it into the moonlight and see a small, equally brilliant silver object. The best way I could describe it is "Bullet Arrow". It is long and very thin and cylindrical. At the tip there is a wider dome, which resembles a normal bullet on its own. At the end there is a flat piece that resembles one of those tiny batteries you find in miniature electronics.

Out of sheer curiosity, I try to fit the strange bit of ammo into the gun that I possess. It seems to fit, but not very comfortably. After readying my weapon, I look ahead at the blank soccer field that sits in front of me. Figuring that my car is already a wreck and that it doesn't really matter, I aim the barrel of the revolver directly in front of me, hesitate for a moment, and then fire my only shot through the glass. The bullet exits and leaves another smoldering hole in my windshield. I tense up momentarily, and find that my only conscious thought is "Wow, I hope nobody heard that."

I put the gun down and notice a strong aroma suddenly devouring the air around me. I turn and see that for whatever reason, the backseat of my car has suddenly burst into flame. The stench of the burning leather begins to overpower me and I start to panic. And just like that, I'm awake.

The most interesting thing about this dream was that for several seconds after waking up, realizing that it was a dream and even taking a second to look around the room and reacquaint myself with reality, I could still smell the burning leather.

Dreams are disturbingly powerful some times.

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(February 6th, Sunday Night)

This was one of those dreams that was all across time and space, so bear with me here.

I'm in what I'm assuming is supposed to be my bedroom. The house I'm in feels familiar but I'm certain I've never seen it or been in it before. My room is dark, with the only light coming from a gigantic flat-screen monitor on the wall in front of me. The floor is messy and there are random objects scattered around. I'm sitting on a bed that looks a lot like my sister's old bed from when we were in elementary school. The monitor in front of me is hilariously futuristic and I'm simply using it to message a few friends. I'm not sure of anything we're saying, but I know that I was speaking through it to my friends Ted, Kevin and Kathleen.

Eventually I leave the room and immediately across the hall I see Kathleen sitting in a room of her own. I enter her room and find her sitting on a bed that looks similar to the one I was just on. For whatever reason, she's naked and playing an acoustic guitar. My friends Kevin and Pat enter the room. I find another acoustic sitting on the floor and sit next to Kathleen, who's begun playing a slow and appealing little chord progression on her guitar. I begin playing along with her as best I can (the dream stayed true to reality, I barely know anything about guitar). Kevin began to insist that I give him the guitar, because he knows how to play and, as far as I can tell or assume, wants to show off for the naked chick in the room. I refuse yet say nothing, and continue plucking the strings, finding the right key as Kevin and Pat watch.

All at once, I'm outside. The dream has turned to a first-person view. It's a brilliantly sunny day, either in the midst of fall or spring, and I find that my new company consists of a young, punkish-looking man and a woman that looks basically exactly like Amy Winehouse. I don't have a clue as to whether or not it was supposed to BE her, but hey, whatever right? We're standing in a yard on the edge of a street. The street itself looks to be my childhood neighborhood, and I recognize that we are standing on the curb of the first right-turn. The house we are standing in front of has an enormous front yard and is, itself, gigantic. It's definitely not part of my old neighborhood. It's basically a huge, beautiful estate slapped in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. It's painted a lovely shade of red and resembles what I suppose my mind thinks of as a university of sorts. There are leaves falling around it eternally, despite barely any trees being around or near.

My two cohorts and I are standing over some sort of weird, treetrunk-looking object that seems to be oozing a terrifying jelly. It's color is something close to a really deep crimson. I didn't think of it as blood at the time and still really don't, but that's kind of what it looked like. The Winehouse chick lights a cigarette over it and I think contemplates on setting the strange stump aflame. Words are exchanged but I don't remember anything that was said at all. Then she turns and faces the house with the cigarette between her lips, her face sullen and angry-looking. Her boyfriend (I think that's who he was supposed to be) walks up to her and tries to comfort her, but she continues staring at the mansion without a change in her expression. Suddenly the man expresses concern and points to her hair. Her hair has ignited, and at first she casually attempts to put it out by swatting at it, which only makes it worse. Soon the top of her head in entirely engulfed in glames, and she begins to panic, doing anything she can think of to put it out while her boyfriend does the same. At this point I'm not even entirely sure that I'm actually standing here with them, as no one has acknowledged me and I'm unable to do anything besides observe. My view is not my own, and when I see different parts of my surroundings, they blink into view, as if I'm watching different scenes from a movie.

And again, all at once, I'm somewhere else. I'm standing on the railroad tracks on US 50, a long road that runs along the river below the city where I live. I'm very familiar with this road. I am standing by a cluster of buildings and recognize that one of them is my new home; some sort of apartment I guess. I'm very excited to be living here and find that I truly love my new digs and surroundings. Christina appears. We have apparently just come from a movie. I think other people may have been with us or around us, but they never really come into view. Christina and I walk towards the cluster of buildings, where I realize that her new job is stationed right nextdoor to my new apartment. She's a waitress again, and seems happy about where she has found employment. I feel like this dream is implying that we live together, but that's never seen nor stated. Suddenly we part ways: she heads towards the restaurant(?) and I head towards my new home. It's the dead of night and all is still.

I never make it inside, as my alarm is going off and it's time for work.

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(February 7th, Monday Night)

Kevin, Pat, Ryan and I are standing outside of a large mansion that seems to be in the middle of the wilderness. I'm not sure why, but I dream about mansions all the fucking time. Probably because I really, really wish I had been born rich.

There is no path leading to this estate at all. There are many workers and gardeners outside, all going this way and that, doing their business in the lazy afternoon sunshine. There are wildflowers, weeds and tall grass growing all around us and all around the large home in front of us. The home itself resembles something like an old train terminal. It reminds me a lot of the Cincinnati Museum of Natural History, but on a much smaller and more residential scale (the museum used to be a train station). At last we step inside.

The inside is bustling with many different people as well, mostly in business attire. Despite their numbers, they still look to be few, as the inside of this place is absolutely enormous. The architecture is very old in appearance and the hallways are incredibly long and wide. We begin to wander throughout the estate. Another friend of mine from college, Erica, suddenly finds us and tells us that this is her home where she lives with her family, and that we're welcome to look around but that we should be careful and that we shouldn't stay too long. We thank her and move on.

We travel down a lone corridor and admire the many archways and paintings and other things you ooh and awe at in a very old place like this. At some point we enounter a bench and decide to rest a moment. Somehow, Pat and Ryan manage to slip inside of this strange piece of decorated framework that is leaning up against the bench. I can just barely see where they've gone, and it looks as if they're on some sort of strange rollercoaster ride through Hell or something like it. They don't seem afraid and I can hear their voices. Eventually, I manage to reach inside up to my shoulder and pull the two of them out. The most I have to say about the experience is "That sure was strange" or something like that, and again, we continue walking.

Things fade from view and suddenly I'm outside, with just Kevin for company. We're standing in a field that is fenced in on either side by large trees. To our backs is either a lake or an ocean; some large body of water. It's very pretty. The sun still shines bright, and I see that in the distance the mansion sits, and that we are standing downhill from it and slowly walking back in its direction. Kevin has his marijuana and my bowl in his hands, and he begins to pack it up. Everything feels peaceful. Even in the dream I was aware that I'm not supposed to be smoking, but as  Kevin begins to toke up, I say fuck it and take a hit myself. I begin to feel that blissful sensation, and we continue walking back towards the estate, where I assume our friends were waiting for us.

I woke up truly thinking I had broken my clean-streak and that I was going to have to start over. Still, it was nice to have such a pleasant dream.

It even allowed my unconscious self to smoke a little reefer.

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(February 8th, Tuesday Night)

Another weird, scatter-brained dream.

Once again, the guys and I are all together. We're sitting towards the very front and towards the very far right of a theater in Newport. We are crammed together so tightly and slung so far out of the way that I can barely make out what the hell is happening on the screen. As far as I can tell, we're still in the middle of all of the advertisements that nobody really cares about.

Rob is sitting directly in front of me, and I believe that my dream tried to reference a random story he told me some time ago because his hair is soaking wet and several locks of it manage to slap me across the face several times. Besides that, he's clothed and just sitting there normally. We're also accompanied by a very, very old man that I understand to be somebody's grandfather. He's very sick and coughing loudly, bundled as much as possible in a heavy coat and scarf. Someone in our group is continuously saying "Grandpa is sick" without an ounce of urgency in their voice whatsoever, which is weird and creepy.

The dream transitions. I find myself outside of an old, abandoned home. The house basically looks like a shell; almost as if it's some sort of movie set rather than somebody's home. It sits upon a small hill, and all of the surrounding grass is either dead or overgrown and going wild. I notice that I'm seeing two people, who resemble Bubbles and Keema from The Wire, respectively. I'm just watching them and I'm pretty certain that I'm not actually among them. They're talking and Keema seems happy, whereas Bubbles seems distraught and frantic. He has a strange bottle attached to his hip. It looks like some sort of demonic perfume bottle. I understand that he's been given this device by someone in order to help him kill himself, as the spray is "Cancer Spray" (pretty sure my subconscious got this disturbing idea when I heard about that conspiracy theory about the government giving Bob Marley cancerby using an infected needle planted in his shoe). The strangest part is that, while Keema wanders around rambling, Bubbles will spray the cancerous perfume whenever she isn't looking, and I can feel it. Every time he sprays, I feel sicker, and dizzier, and less in touch with my surroundings.

I realize that these two are drug-addled and looking for more dope. Bubbles seems to be trying to kill himself in secret to escape their situation. Outside of the home is a small body of water, and we slowly move towards it. Suddenly, a large and pristine-looking SUV drives upon on to the grass and out steps a large, imposing man and a young, beautiful girl. For whatever reason, everyone is suddenly aware of my presence, and the man in the SUV mentions that this girl "Nicole" is cute and is looking for a boy. They look towards me, but I don't react in any way, and nobody seems put off or confused by this.

Things become blurry and suddenly I find all of us walking the streets. I can tell that we're near the home we were just occupying, and I'm sure that we're looking for drugs. Out of nowhere, someone in a small car (the color of which seemed to change every few seconds without me ever noticing) comes speeding down the lane, clipping several parked cars along the way, before stopping in front of us. He opens the door, tumbles out of the driver's seat, and immediately begins shooting in our direction. A cop that had apparently shown up at one point is down. Suddenly, my cohorts are gone, and I'm watching a strange exchange between a man driving a large, other-worldly towtruck-esque vehicle and the man that was doing the shooting. Towtruck man gives him his card, and simply leaves the scene without another word.

Then everything gets kind of senseless, but oddly cinematic. My vision swims and suddenly I'm seeing the inside of a church, where one of my older co-workers, Tom, is sitting inside. My view is all over the place as if I'm a flying camcorder. There's energetic music playing and no conversation going on. It's like I'm watching the trailer for a movie. Tom turns to me (the camera?) and presents a strange decorated coin with a big smile on his face.

In moments I have been transported to another church, where an older woman with fiery red hair who looks extremely familiar to me is arguing with the surrounding nuns and the priest. They claim that she has cheated while trying to pass their test. She is furious and is spouting every curse word she can think of, while pointing fingers and accusing all those around of being liars.

And that's about it!

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(February 9th, Wednesday Night)

This dream begins in a large gymnasium. The location of the gymnasium is much like the location of my old Tae Kwan Do school, though obviously now much larger and... a gymnasium.

I'm in the middle of a basketball game. My team is full of guys I've never met who all look to be around my age, some of them possibly a year or two my junior. The only face I can recall does resemble an old co-worker, but I digress. We're all wearing white shorts and white jerseys and we're playing a team that seems to be dressed almost identically to us. The game is actually pretty standard, for a dream at least. I'm moving pretty smoothly and manage to get a few points in. I'm enjoying myself quite a lot. I used to play basketball as a kid but was never very good at it. The gymnasium isn't especially crowded, with families littered here or there watching us play.

I notice that one of the members of the other time has a heavy accent that I automatically assume to be of Russian descent. From that point on, in my head, we're playing against "Team Russia". This is not meant to be taken as a stance against communism (as far as I know). At one point, the other team is called back to the bleachers, where they are suddenly replaced by an all-female team wearing their same uniforms. We continue to play against these new girls, and continue to dominate as we had been the entire game. Somebody on my team is continuously saying "Lookin' good, lookin' good" while we play, while another repeats "We lost to us!" over and over after we stop playing for a few moments. Up until that point I had been sure we were winning, but either way, I enjoy my time on the court.

At different points in the game, multiple balls were thrown into the fray. Without missing a beat we began to play the game using two or three balls at a time, without anyone really questioning why. We're all sweating like pigs out there.

That dream ends abruptly, and I wake up in between.

I fall asleep again.

I seem to be watching a computer monitor. There is a cartoony-looking young man struggling to mop the floor. I find that I am in control of a program panel to the man's left, and I began fiddling with the settings. With each color I choose, the puddle on the floor below him changes colors. This gives me the impression that this man, for whatever reason, is stuck trying to mop the floor of program not unlike MS Paint.

A woman enters and begins to berate him on his performance. She's very cartoonish as well and reminds much of the female lead in that Hercules animated movie that came out forever ago. All the while she screams at the poor guy and he cowers in fear and stammers, I mess with the settings and continue to change the color of the puddle.

Suddenly the scene switches, and my view has changed. I'm now in the room with these two, and they start to look more solid and more human. The man suddenly exerts control and the woman turns away from him, looking shameful and embarrassed. The man comes up behind her and begins to fondle her breasts. She allows him to for only a moment, before the scene once again switches.

I'm now looking at a video game that looks almost exactly like Zelda: Link to the Past. I'm in control of the main character, who is a young man with a sword, only pixilated and miniature. I defeat two insignificant monsters, and upon doing so, a young maiden appears and I know that I've "beaten the level". Again, everything changes, and I find that beating the level has resulted in me standing in a large room that appears to be a bedroom from a castle. Some of my friends, whom I don't really recognize, are occupying the room and simply reading a magazine. Things feel casual (even if we are in a huge stone castle) but I know that I'm searching for something. I walk past the beds and my friends, and exit through a door in front of me to a stone balcony. This place is strange because its decoration, furniture and even some parts of its architecture look exactly like a hotel from present day, but at the same time most things are made of wood and dark stones, just like a medieval castle.

I walk on to the balcony and see a table with a vase of roses on it. One of the roses is floating in mid-air, as if being admired by a ghost. I'm momentarily afraid, but suddenly I realize that this is what, or rather, who I am looking for. It's the woman from earlier. I approach her and take the rose in my hand. Without a sound, she begins to massage me down below.

My vision is suddenly engulfed by a vision of a letter (which looks exactly like something you'd out of Elder Scrolls: Oblivion). The letter is a rambling mess, but part of it is spoken aloud in the woman's voice. She says something about using me, because sex "gives her life".

And then I wake up, and wonder what the fuck is wrong my head.

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(February 14th, Fuck Valentine's Day, Monday Night)

The dream begins in the front yard of a house on the neighborhood that ran adjacent to my parent's current neighborhood. It's a yard I've seen a million times but, of course, have never walked on in my life.

My co-worker Dustin is leading me to a fence, saying that we're going to visit a young girl in his family that I believe to be either his niece or young cousin. I'm pretty sure he had a cute nickname for her; "Sweet Pea" or something like that. It's late afternoon and I believe it to be summer time. We approach the fence and I duck underneath it. In moments, we find ourselves in a grove that is fenced in by surrounding trees. There are many short hedges scattered around that form odd lanes; almost as if this is some sort of really simple, easily-ignored maze. We trudge along, and frequently, large and imposing creatures appear before us. Dustin is calm, and I follow his example. These are large, skeletal creatures with skulls similar to that of a cow or a bull, and they begin to launch crude weapons at us. We do the same, and throw the weapons back, engaging in strange combat with the creatures. At one point, as I kept position behind one of the hedges and threw the weapons that came near, I distracted one of the beasts. With its head turned towards me, Dustin immediately clocked it with a bone weapon of his own, and I watched the thing's head literally burst and all at once, its body went limp and collapsed.

I found myself with a strange blue sword that looked as if it had been crafted out of once living material. I analyzed it for only a moment before immediately throwing it with all of my might at one of the bone monsters.

We continue through the hedges and encounter a new type of creature: they can only be described as praying mantis cats. They have my own cat's color scheme and his exact face and eye color, but their head is sloped back like some sort of alien creature, and they stand very tall on several insect-like legs with the two scythe-looking claws extended out in front. Needless to say, their appearance freaked me the fuck out. I don't really killing any of them, just seeing the very large ones and immediately getting away from them.

Finally we seemed to reach a checkpoint of sorts. It was a line that lead into the thickness of the surrounding forest. But on the path that the line formed, smaller, baby versions of the cat mantises ran along in a constant scattering march. Dustin told me that the young ones were gentle and would not attack if we didn't bother them. But of course, as soon as I try to cross, I have one of those dream moments where I tumble to the ground and find it impossible to get back to my feet.

The young creatures stop on my right and stare into my eyes. I can see clearly that they look exactly like Chico (my cat). At first I'm unafraid and even somewhat amused. But then, they decide to continue on their route, and several of them begin to climb over me. I notice right away that they are purring loudly, and for a moment this is extremely endearing to me. They are extremely furry and soft, like a cat should be, but suddenly, all of these combined factors terrify me. And then, all at once, they begin to trample me and crawl all over me in order to reach their destination. I panic and begin to flail as they overtake me.

And then I'm awake.

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(February 16th, Wednesday Night)

Memory didn't serve very well last night, even though my dreams felt pretty meaningful.

Are dreams ever really meaningful?

Anyway, we begin our foray into my subconscious at Lake Erie. I'm here on vacation with many of my friends, and although I know that they are present, I do not see them for more than a moment in the actual dream. The condo we're staying at is completely unfamiliar and not the slightest bit inviting. Everything is dim and in a scattered disarray. It's a cloudy evening I think, and I find myself running around inside of this strange structure trying to get settled.

This dream was very short and quick to the point: I was trying to fight off the temptation to smoke marijuana.

When we go to Lake Erie for our yearly trips (dubbed Brofest, because it's always an entirely male convoy because we're losers) we CONSTANTLY smoke pot. We head down to the beach and swim in the lake, we enjoy the pool and the hot tub, we seek out bars and restaurants and flea markets and visit our usual spots; and we do all of it, stoned out of our minds. The trip's central theme is "Stay Fucked Up" and we adhere to it with gusto.

In the dream, I can constantly feel my friends watching me, although they aren't saying anything. I can smell all of the weed we have with us and I see bags of it sitting out all over the condo. All the while, I am doing battle with myself, verbally (out loud) and mentally (in my head) and doing what I can to resist. Part of me is desperate to consume and indulge, attempting to justify the whole thing by screaming "BUT IT'S VACATION!". But by the end of the dream, frantic as I may be, I remain sober.

At the opening of the second dream, I find myself at work. Which is unfortunate, because that's exactly where I ended up forty-five minutes after waking up.

The setup of the dryer and the printing presses was different; basically identical to the previous setup, and there were dozens of young, part-time workers running around along with the usual full-timers that I'm familiar with. Things seem relatively normal beyond that: I'm in my shabby work clothes, the warehouse looks and feels exactly the same and business is apparently booming.

And then I notice Emily, my one great love that completely wrecked my world the moment that she escaped it.

She's working the sink and reclaiming some of the silk screens. She looks beautiful; honestly, more beautiful than she actually is. She gives me a sly look, like she used to all the time. I ask her what she's doing here at Sports Co. but she ignores the question. She begins to go on about a job she's recently gotten. She says that it lets her relate to animals very well, particularly dogs. I ask her what the job is, suggesting that maybe it's a job training police hounds or something like that. She suddenly looks away, and the coy edge to her expression suddenly vanishes. She then becomes silent.

I've been able to control my dreams lately, but only in the context of the dream itself. I never actually realize that it's a dream, which seems to be my obstacle right now: I need to remember (while awake) to do a reality check from time to time so that I can get in the habit of doing them subconsciously as well.

This dream was no different. Emily turned from me and ended our conversation abruptly, continuing her work and ignore my presence and my words. For a moment I lingered and admired her body, remembering suddenly that we've been apart for a long, long time. I briefly consider laying my hands upon her and doing as I please. But then, I snap out of my fixation and remember that I'm at work, and that I can't be sitting here making chit-chat and ogling my ex-girlfriend that happens to be here for whatever reason.

I walk away to continue my day, and the dream suddenly falls apart.

It's starting to hit me in many ways how dreams try to communicate feelings or concerns or desires. Some of my dreams seem like elaborate yet clumsy metaphors for my recurring thoughts. I imagine Emily suddenly appearing in my life out of nowhere all the time. One of my earlier dreams (the disturbing one with all the video game references that suddenly turned erotic) seemed to allude to my concerns over Kathleen, and whether or not I'm wasting my time on her, and whether or not she's just using me for sex and temporary company.

Shit's interesting.