So yesterday I had a riding lesson in the hot, hot sun. I was doing fine, but when I jumped off, I realized... I think I'm going to faint. My heart was beating superfast and I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I was boiling hot - I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust. I didn't faint, but I was awfully close. I realized I hadn't drank a lot of water that day, or the day before for that matter. I procured two Gatorades and drank both and felt less like I was going to die, but still pretty unwell. I spent the rest of the day and night on the couch.
I thought I felt better around 10 pm and decided to get up and join my fiance at a party. When I got there, though, I felt really antisocial and sat down in a corner. I was pretty sure I was emanating some pretty ugly vibes, but I figured my mood would improve after a beer or two and all would be well. But then some guy with a foreign accent who was like 50 or something came over and put his hand on my my shoulder. "Miss, you're alone." Um, yeah, thanks for pointing that out. "You allright?" Yes. Then he proceeded to say some stuff I couldn't understand. I gave him a weird look and pointed over towards my fiance and said "I'm fine, thank you" and he said some more stuff I couldn't understand and went away.
I don't know why but that really enraged me. First of all, why can't I sit alone for five minutes? I was reading an interesting article about Ernest Hemingway on my ipod. (I'm not cool enough or rich enough to have an actual smartphone.) Maybe wherever this guy comes from, women are not supposed to be unescorted and that's why he was so concerned? I don't fucking know. Yes, I tend to turn a lot of innocent situations into feminist arguments. Secondly, OK, let's say he just saw an opportunity of a young woman sitting alone. Why is it that only old, unattractive people approach me? Oh, and lesbians. I never get hit on by any cute, straight male anywhere near my age. This really fucks with my self-esteem. Thank god I'm engaged because I really don't know how single people manage.
Anyways, that was that and I decided I had to get out of there. My fiance was a bit taken aback that I was taking off five minutes after getting there but I just wasn't in the mood.
Turned out I didn't really want to go home, though. So for about 45 minutes I just drove around aimlessly. I felt as though I wanted to go somewhere different, go on an adventure. I realized that I spend 99% or more of my life in three places: Home, Work, and the bar. We never go anywhere do anything different. I cried for a while, feeling sorry for myself. I tried calling some people but I don't have a lot of friends and it was 1 am on a holiday weekend and no one answered.
For the last few days I've been feeling really anxious and depressed. I read an article about a guy who killed himself and in the days leading up to his death he told his parents "My world is shrinking." Somehow that phrase really resonated with me.
So eventually I went home, went to sleep, and proceeded to stay asleep or mostly asleep for about 16 hours. I got up at 5 pm.
Usually I feel pretty terrible when I do this. Terrible physically, and also despair over the fact that I do such things. I usually wail "I am sleeping my life away." But today I don't feel as much despair. Because I had a lot of dreams, and I enjoyed them. I kept waking up but kept going back to sleep because I was having more fun in my dreams than I do in my real life. I know I'm going to be awake all night, but that's OK because that's the best time to write. And I thought, this isn't a curse. It's just who I am. Perhaps this is just what I'm meant to do, this is how I'm meant to live. Sleep all day, write all night. It's what I would do naturally if I wasn't forced to adhere to a "proper" schedule.
Last night when I got the hell out of that party, I was reminded that I am naturally a solitary person. I do enjoy company, but in limited bursts, and I'm very picky about who it is.
Anyways, I had a lot of dreams and some of them were nice and some were pretty fucked up. I'm not going to be able to remember all of them but I'll forget them entirely if I'm don't write them down now.
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I was running in a park, on nice wooded trails. There was someone I was trying to avoid, someone I didn't want to run into because it would be an awkward conversation. It was a physically vivid dream, and the running was effortless. I was so excited because for the first time since I'd started jogging/running, I had reached a fitness level where I felt like I could just keep running forever. I didn't have to stop after 3 minutes or 5 minutes or 10 minutes. I could sustain the running, and I just wanted to keep running.
I stopped when I saw some people standing around looking at something. They suspected a crime had taken place. We banded together to look around, and found an abandoned school. We ended up in some locker rooms, which we noticed were "gender neutral" locker rooms (how we knew that, I don't know) and we thought that was kind of odd, no one had ever heard of such a thing. The place was creepy indeed.
One clue led to another (that part is vague), and we ended up at a creepy old house. It was dusk, and the sky was overcast and had a weird color. We went inside and there were a bunch of people standing around in a circle. The walls of the house had that disgusting yellow look from cigarette smoking. The light inside was dim and the figures were muted silouettes. We wondered what they were all standing around looking at. They were ignoring us, so we got closer to look. They were standing around a bed. On one side lay a very old, sick woman. On the other side there was a crib or a washbin or something. It was full of water. There was a tall thin man standing next to the bed on the side with the bin. He was holding a baby, that was half-wrapped in swaddling. It's arms were free. The man was reciting some strange incantations, and then he put the baby in the washbin, and held it underwater. The baby struggled, his arms flailed, but he was of course totally helpless. The incantations continued. Only the man recited, the viewers were silent.
As the baby stopped struggling, a ball of light came out of his mouth, lifted up from the water, and floated over to the old woman. The light went into her mouth, and she gasped loudly and sat up. She still looked old, but she was much more lively and didn't look sick. Me and my newfound friends were just staring, mouths agape, and she looked right at us and said, "What? You never seen a witch before?"
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I was at work, and closing up the office. I hadn't locked the front door yet though, and an old beat up Cadillac pulled up right next to the door. The person inside looked as though he was rummaging around for something. He probably needed to pay his account. I told my coworker I was going to shoo him away. I went to the front door to lock it and called out towards the car, "I'm sorry, sir, we're closed" and when he looked up it was Norm McDonald. (Apparently, in this dream, I was acquainted with him.) "Oh, hi Norm! Come on in!" He replied "really? You let old creepy old men in after you're closed? What kind of establishment is this?" I laughed and said, "Only a few certain creepy old men, Norm, we're very selective here."
We chatted as he paid his bill and that's when I realized that I had a bit of crush on Norm. I decided to be rather bold and asked him what he was doing afterwards. He was going to some kind of party and I basically invited myself. He looked really confused, and I was hoping that he was just surprised and flattered that I was hitting on him.
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My fiance and I were on some kind of trip, riding on a coach bus. The bus was going through a small city, and started making a sharp turn. Then, something felt wrong. The bus was leaning really hard around the corner. Everyone started to gasp and then it felt like a tire blew out and it started tipping even more. My fiance said "We're going over!" and the bus started to fall onto its side. Luckily we were seat-belted, but not everyone was. The bus not only fell onto its side, but rolled a couple more times. People were falling every which way and screaming. I pressed my eyes shut, hoping that we would just come to a stop and not fall over a cliff or catch on fire or something. The bus eventually plopped to a stop. I called out for everyone to move carefully and slowly because we didn't know where we had landed. I inched towards a window and saw were high up in the sky. Apparently the bus had been makings its way to the top of a parking garage when it had flipped, and we had gone over the edge and landed on the roof of another building. People were hurt, so I had to go get help. I managed to get through an emergency door or an open window, and found myself inside an apartment building. A really sketchy one, filled with prostitutes and drug dealers. They were looking at me like I had two heads as I tried to find my way to a stairwell to get the hell down and out of there.
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Edited: Later today, I went for a walk/jog and thought about the dream where I'd been running easily. And in fact, today I did run way longer than I've ever been able to. It did feel pretty effortless, at least until about the 20 minute mark. I guess the dream was good for something. Either it foretold my newfound ability, or I was able to do it because I believed I could. Either way, I was pretty proud of myself, it was a quite a milestone for me. Pretty soon I'm going to be one of those annoying people you see jogging around looking all fit and trim. Is it wrong to WANT people to hate you?
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