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2000-08-31 late afternoon... or not

the saga continues and dreams

"Isn't it funny how one minute life can be such a struggle, and the next you're just driving real fast, swerving back and forth across the road?"

So, I'm back at school now. Life is different now. Odd how your environment, routine, and general mindset can suddenly be so different from what it was the day before, hmm?

Oh, I saw the cheerleader movie the other night. I think it's called "Bring it On." I would recommend it. Though they decided to tackle some race issues (in a roundabout way) that are difficult to deal with in any context, much less a movie like that. But it was funny. Go see it. And then try out for the cheerleading squad. If you're still in school. But if you happen to be toting around equal numbers of X and Y chromosomes, only do it if they actually want guys on the team.

My new place is a hole, and there's not enough room in my half of the cell for all my stuff (I've got to stop being so materialistic). But word out on the street is that they'll be installing a T1 line in here soon, for use free of charge to residents. And that would just make everything worthwhile, wouldn't it?

My mood (not to mention my health) has been up and down a lot this last week, but it's been mostly good.

My world music cultures class isn't going to cover music from the middle east or China. ; P

Good news- so far I have found my biochemistry class very interesting. Since it's my major, that's good.

cemetery

My friend and roommate Kelly thinks it's horrible that I like No Doubt. Many of my hypothetical readers would probably agree. I used to be ashamed of liking No Doubt, but I don't care anymore. I like No Doubt, so there! And anyway, he likes Eve 6.

I think it's rained more in the past two days than it did the whole summer.

I had a new dream experience last night. I was in the midst of a truly horrifying dream. I don't remember much about it except that what random images were associated with it seemed secondary to a suffocating sense of horror. And then, I woke up from that dream into another dream. This dream I spent walking around trying to find my mother so I could tell her about the first dream, even though I quickly forgot the details of it. I woke up before I found her, when I realized that I had never actually woken up after the first dream.

My most terrifying dreams over the past few years have had little or no visual component- just a voice speaking, or flashes of equation fragments, with a deep sense of impending doom. It's just black, with the sensation that reality itself is collapsing around me in an attempt to crush me out of existence. But I rarely have dreams like that. And before I had the first of those, it had been many years since I had had a nightmare (though they were a common occurence as a child). I frequently have dreams that might seem to be nightmares as far as the events that take place in them are concerned, but I feel no fear. I frequently have dreams where I'm slaughtering nasty creatures who are also out to manually measure the length of my intestinal tract, but I feel about as much anxiety about the possibility of my death as I would feel about dying in a video game (which is some anxiety...).

Dreams fascinate me. I just love being able to head off into an environment where nothing is for certain. You could end up anywhere, do and be anything. I once had a dream where I kept switching back and forth between being different people, all of different ages and genders, each in his or her own unique environment. It's a refreshing break from the continuous reality of waking. But maybe my dreams are just more interesting than those of others. I certainly find them fascinating. But I'm not big on dream interpretation. Even if they do have meaning, I think the meaning of a dream depends on the person having it. I don't think you can say that "doors mean this" or "dead roses mean that" (or "cherry blossoms mean imminent death"). And as you may already know, I hate literary analysis as well. It's too easy to just make up stupid pseudo-intellectual crap and get a good grade for it.

a man who dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly who now dreams he is a man?

the plot thickens every day
and the pieces of my puzzle keep crumbling away
but i know
there's a picture beneath

in between my love and agony,

grey

Diaryland