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12:07 p.m. - August 29, 2001
a bullshit manifestation
I had a dream last night that a friend and I were playing cards on my dad's bed. He began showing me a card trick, and after I pulled my first card, (incidentally, it was the ace of hearts)I looked down and realized I was completely naked. At first, that didn't bother me, but as the card trick progressed, I started becoming more and more self-conscious. After he was almost done with the trick, I looked at him and said, "You know, I feel kind of weird being naked in front of you."

He said, "Why?" and finished up his trick. "You had the two of diamonds!"

"Not quite," I mumbled, trying to cover myself up with a blanket and showing him my ace of hearts.

He was incredibly disappointed and slunk out of the room with his proverbial tail between his legs. I hurriedly got dressed.

Analyzation, although I don't usually believe in it, but this one kind of falls into place: I used to expose myself (emotionally, Chelsea, you dirty woman) to this friend all the time. I even exposed emotions I didn't have, which I've gone into here ad nauseum, so I won't reiterate, but the point it I emptied my soul all over him. I felt too comfortable about it.

Going to about... junior year, the middle, I started worrying about how he saw me, whether he saw me as this whiny brat, which I must admit, I was. So I cut down. I furiously wrote poems instead of calling him up, hysterical. He thinks I changed. I only changed what I show people, though it was admittedly a BIG change. I went from outward soul to partially outward soul, and that completely switched my personality.

So far: naked=soul-bearing, self-consciousness about said nakedness=beginning to curb said soul-bearing. Following me here?

His 'card trick'. He always pretended he cared about what I was saying, although anyone with human levels of frustration would have long since kicked my whining ass out the door. Needless to say, this caring act only semi-worked, hence the two of diamonds - ace of spades mix up, and since I know enough to mention it. He'd call me paranoid. Watch, there'll be an entry in my notes from him, calling me paranoid and that he really does care. Ok. I can deal with that.

Laugh at my analyzation. It deserves it. But you only deserve to laugh if you have a better one, so hypothesize away, send it to me. I'm sure I'll find my phantom life amusing.

 

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