8:06 p.m. - February 11, 2002
in which i void my own point
I feel icky; I think I have a mild case of food poisoning. However, as my body never lets itself throw up, I never know if I'm sick or just relapsing into anxiety. Although, a few days ago I did come up with something quite accurate...I just can't remember it now. Oh... the running. If I'm feeling icky and I don't know whether it's me being ill or me being nervous, I just think about running around in a field, in the open air, barefoot, dewy field, whatever. The ultimate nature scene. If I feel like I�d like to be doing that, then it�s anxiety. If the thought makes me tired and even sicker, then it�s an illness. However, I think my logic may be a bit skewed, because the thought of running around in a dewy field and the actuality of doing it are two different things entirely. I think last night I would have very much liked to be running down the street; however, I could hardly stand and walk enough to get from room to room. The problem with me fantasizing about running is that my fantasy includes a healthy body WITHIN it; it�s part of the entire picture. Sometimes I think my mind works too well.
Or unusually, or something. Because dreams are supposed to showcase the real mind, etc., etc., and mine are different from anybody�s I�ve ever known, or any studies I�ve ever read. For example, I dream in vivid color. I know I do. I remember the redness of my blood pouring out of the bottom of my foot in a dream, right after I�d tried one of those visualizations where you envision your body as filled with clear liquid (Rada�s voice still chants, incessantly) and you�re supposed to empty it through each part of your body, slowly. It�s supposed to go with hypnosis, or relaxation, but what it did was give me night visions about my blood seeping out slowly through little holes in my skin. I could feel it; and I could see it; and it was red.
The second thing is that I can always remember dreams. Always. Not just at the moment I wake up, but for the rest of the day and sometimes beyond. If you ask me on a particular day what I did the day before, I may not be able to tell you, but if you ask me what I dreamed the night before, I will remember with utmost clarity. After a few days, what I dreamed when I dreamed it gets a bit fuzzy, but the dreams will stay, not necessarily in chronological order, but lingering there nonetheless. Whenever I think about dreams, and those that I remember well, I think of the one I had when I was six or seven, where I was surfing on a big wave that rose out of the YWCA swimming pool. I was on my surfboard on the wave, which wasn�t really travelling anywhere except up, and it got nearer and nearer to the ceiling and I remember thinking, �I�m going to be crushed against the top of this room.� After that, it gets blurry. I think I did touch the ceiling, but I didn�t get crushed. Then, I put on my yellow flip-flops and walked out of the pool and into the locker room, where the same scary naked woman that had the corner locker in real life was just putting on her sunglasses.
Third, I generally lucid-dream. Not less than five or whatever percent of the time like most people, but probably well over half. I will realize it�s a dream as I�m dreaming, and do stupid shit that I would never, ever do in real life for fear of (choose one) death, rejection, being deemed clinically insane, getting killed, etc., etc. Things such as (choose one) jumping off high rooftops, seducing strangers, seducing people who aren�t strangers but who would never allow me to seduce them in real life. (side note: I�m kind of sexually frustrated lately) anyway, as if anyone cared, on with the list: falling straight back off a ledge, etc. Mostly it has to do with impossible situations and impossible people, impossible social risks I�d never take. Usually they end up well. I mean... a rock star was somehow in my bed not too long ago. Not too shabby, eh? The problem with lucid dreaming is when you get into a situation like that, you KNOW it�s not real, the whole time you�re doing whatever it is that you�re doing, and you know that eventually you�ll wake up. Most people, when they dream, they think it�s happening, that so they can enjoy it to the fullest. Me... I try and forget, but all the while I�m squeezing my eyes shut and hoping I won�t wake up, not for awhile at least..... because when I wake up it all dissolves away and in addition to it being gone, I can REMEMBER that it�s gone, and remember how good it was when it was there, and that it isn�t there anymore and I have to wake up and go to school, where the boys in my math class talk about getting girls drunk and taking advantage of them, and then about how they�re �stupid sluts� for letting it happen, and the whole time I�m sitting there seething and hoping something falls on them and reduces them to dust, while simultaneously remembering the boys in my dream, who are always sweet and kind (that, in itself, should be a tip-off to dreaming souls that none of it is real).
I miss being kissed, even if it is by lips and tongues that have no fucking clue what they�re doing, as the last few happened to be. Of course, I�m lying, because if a random somebody came along right at this very moment and offered to solve this problem, I�d most likely laugh. I�m pickier than I�d like to admit. If I thought of a list of people I wouldn�t mind kissing, and keep in mind this is out of absolutely everyone I know, I�d come up with... let me count... about fifteen or twenty, out of hundreds. And only about three I�d pretty much kill for....
I�m tired. The whole point of this entry was to detail the dream I had last night, but instead of jumping right into that, I had to give the entire background of anything i could possibly ever talk about ever in a lifetime ever ever (let�s not overemphasize the EVER�s). So. The dream.
I�ve forgotten.
Voiding any point I was trying to make.

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