The Wee Democracy

it gets worse...

added to the fact that i'm more or less bored to sobs these days, i haven't been sleeping well. this is due mainly to some fucked-up-ass dreams lately. you see, my dreams are rather blatant slaps in the face - none of that subtle messages that you need to resolve certain feelings you've got or life issues. mine are more like bloody or dread filled reminders that i've got to get my shit together.

i used to have this recurring dream about waves. it sucked, because really the beach is like my own personal fortress of solitude. when i went to north carolina a couple of years ago, i used to go out at night when no one was on the beach and sit in the sand, watching the waves crash. it was really indescribably a killer sight. and it put me at ease, which was a hard thing to do at the time...still is, as a matter of fact.

the dreams i had were followed the general pattern of a lovely day at the beach. i'd be walking or something equally pleasant when the waves would start breaking bigger. i'd back up the beach, and the waves would break further up the beach, until one wave would knock me off my feet. then it starts. the waves grow bigger, and bigger and i can't retreat any further up the beach. i'm blocked in, sometimes by a sand wall, once i was trapped in an ocean front room, with the waves crashing up against the shaking glass. but the waves grow, enormous now, looming over me blocking out the sun, twenty or thirty feet tall and holding there in front of me. then they collapse. i survive, but it's only a matter of time before another wave comes and threatens me. the last time i had this dream, i was far away from the beach. i saw the waves, and i saw them get enormous, but they were too far away from me to hurt me.

i dream about tornados too, but those dreams are less formulaic, and usually, i'm pretty much out of harms way.

but last night, i had a dream in which both my body and my mind were assaulted.

it's raining, and the backyard is flooding. i'm stuck out there, on a bench out there, and in the water there's a small shark. the shark bites off my left arm, which he proceeds to leave behind and i have to snag it from the rising water before it sinks. i jam the gruesome artifact into my stump and get into the house. i'm holding my arm in place, and try to tell my mom and my cousin that a shark has bitten my arm off and i must get to a hospital. they don't believe that a shark is swimming in the backyard and ignore me.

i get to the hospital and am tended to by my old pediatriction who stitches my arm back on, almost no worse for the wear. i tell people that i'm sort of incapacitated, what with my arm being sorta mangled. people don't believe me. i tell people that my arm is actually barely sewn on by a few stitches, and i show them the blue criss cross stitches in my upper musclature. it is at this point when i'm at a coffe shop, showing off said stitches and reading a book, that i pull on one of them and it comes off. not out...off. then..the whole line of blue knotted string comes off my arm. it's nothing but a string that my doctor tied around my arm to humor...a shark didn't bite my arm off...i imagined the whole thing instead, and i realize that in my dream, i'm going crazy instead.

so that's how my dream ended, with the realization that even in my dreams i'm slowly settling into a pathological state of lunacy.

isn't that fucked up?



feeling: just...goddammit all
thinking of: jumping
song of the day: wonderwall - ryan adams
no particular lyrics, just the overall melancholy tone which completely undoes any of the lame shit those oasis motherfuckers did