Sonĝo

Mi havis rikuran sonĝon. Mi edziĝis kun Ejmro, sed mi suspektis ke estis sonĝo kaj ni ne faris. Ni havis malkutimajn respondecojn, ia milito. Post kvar tagoj, mi decidis ke ne estis sonĝo, sed antaŭ tiu nokto, mi "vekis" en alian sonĝon. Mi ne memoras, sed mi pensas ke post kelkaj "vekoj," mi estis ĉe lernejo, sed kun universitataj lernigistoj. Mi irigis noton (kiu diras ke estis sonĝo) al Ejmro kaj ŝi ridas min, sed mi klarigis. Estis ia komploto pri D-ro Ŭillbank kaj S-ro Hendrik.

Unue, nia lito estis kiel kaŝejo kaj estis danĝera.

Dream

Mi estis in mia domo, kaj mia frato penantis aĉeti malkutiman animalon. Ĉu estis ia speco de strigo? Mi samtempe laboris kun FEF, TER kaj... alia trolo por fari projekton kiu engaĝis vesto kiel la Escitiano. FEF estis iom ventrega. La projekto estis filmo por lernejo. Mia FIN-a ĉapelo estis la plej bona ni povas fari. Ĝi estis griza.

Another dream

I had a dream that began in a bookstore. I was to read a book and write an essay on it all within two days (it was a thick book and the teachers were mean). I don’t remember the beginning of the dream very well, but I became someone else (some character that I recognised but don’t remember) and I placed the book back on the shelf (which was near a large, window-covered wall, like with sliding glass doors). As I did so, something happened. Some villain or (I vaguely remember it being a person) did something to the book or to me and it happened so that when someone read the cover of the book, an explosion would go off.
This happened and the city outside (which looked like a mall with an open-roof and many, many walk-ways criss-crossing over one another upwards) was in an uproar. It happened so that protective domes would come up over groups of people (and the villain) and some would be trapped/protected from the blasts. I fled the city and worked to stop the villain possibly with some allies. This portion of the dream lasted a while, but I have forgotten it.
The dream reset to the bookstore. Instead of me and my class being there, there was little bit of a half-start where some other character primed the book for explosion as I had. A quick, accelerated version of events happened under different circumstances and the character fought against the villain in the city. I think space was involved at some point.
The dream reset again, with the person at the book being Lux this time. I was observing as a person in the dream from outside the store. After the first explosion, she fought the villain in the streets of the city and eventually had to escape through a lower-floor.
Now the dream took a turn. The Fellowship Of the Ring were gathered in the city and split in the chaos and escaped through various exits. It was a DnD party and my brother was playing “Frodo.” I remember Gimli was with him (I don’t remember who played the other characters) and that there was a Troll (DnD style, but who turned to stone in sunlight) who was part of the group but was nowhere to be found. It was Lord of the Rings, ish, but I don’t remember the rest of the party matching the Fellowship. There was discussion about the Troll and how he had left a note about something and that they were to go to the Trolls’ realm. There was a dungeon on the way, one that was very Skyrim-y and at which point I was part of the party, not the DM. I rememebred having done the dungeon, a little. At the end, we reached the Troll Realm. At this point, it sort of switched from being what was happening to what I was planning to happen as I ran the campaign. On the way out, there was to be a large, stone pedastal-thing which was actually a sword. Nick was going to become entranced and draw it out and dual-wield it along with a war-hammer that he had found (even though he was “Frodo,” he was not a halfling). The group was to leave him in the Troll Realm for a mission. When they returned, he had made friends with a troll and the troll’s wife and he and the party would go and rescue the Troll and the Troll’s son from a hill-top  where they were enchanted. There was a cave-troll boss that they were to fight, after which point he would lose the sword.
I remember planning out a labrynthine maze for the trolls’ realm (which was underground and resembled a very high-built mass-tomb).
A few notes: There were lots of discussions and parts with the Fellowship regrouping that I don’t remember very well, and it should be noted that whoever it was who primed the book for explosion was not the cause of it. The villain had made it so that whenever they looked at words, he could make it so that they would explode next time someone read them. The mission that they left Frodo behind for was picking up his sister from somewhere.

I have determined what it feels like: I feel as though I am strung up by one ankle and left to hang. Everything is still there, just different, less comfortable and less pleasant. The solution is in sight, but out of reach. Occasionally, a fit of hopefulness will take me and I will struggle to reach the knot, but all this serves to do is tire me out. And still the knot grows tighter.

It still hurts

Dream

Someone running MC. At PLANT mall, see Pluv 4m PR. Fog machine at youth room

Vacation

It's beautiful here, I wish I weren't so alone.

More Dreams

I'm getting rather sick of the good ones, even if I hardly remember this last one.

The other dream I had is somewhat clear: there was some sort of apocalyptic alien invasion, I don't remember the details, but there was a race of people who lived underground and some other races, but I think they all looked human. My brother and I were in a group, I think we might have been survivors. We were bracing ourselves for the future. Each person in the group was going to marry someone, I was going to marry one of the people who lived underground. I don't remember her name.
Something happened just before or after the marriage and my brother and I entered coma-like states. In this state, I saw images like skipping film of me in a boat. It passed very quickly, but when I awoke, something like four years had passed. I was in one of the homes of the Underground people, one of the people from our group was staying there as she took care of its owners. She was travelling around and healing the Underground People. My brother did not awake, but I knew that he would soon. Our group had split up after what happened to my brother and I, so I went in search of the girl I had married. I think the healer girl might have been who my brother had married? Anyway, I found myself in a version of NGU that was very unusual. I had been there before, I think earlier in this dream or in my previous dream. I went through it quickly and found my way to a city at night. A hotel was there, where I knew two of our group were staying. I had changed personalities somewhat, I now felt very much like Revema and acted short with people. The hotel had a restaurant on the first floor and I was stopped and asked for a reservation, but I told them who I was there for and they let me through. I went up an elevator and came to the floor where they were. It was Betan and someone else... They were surprised to see me and hesitant when I told them that my brother would be waking up soon.

I don't remember anything else.

Dreams.

It's amazing how much dreams can ruin reality.

News

Was writing on Alice yesterday and I hit a wall. It's amazing how amazingly stupid one can be in early plot writing. Worse yet, one rarely notices the stupidity until it comes time to write the bit. So now I'm squirming around, trying to find a way through it.

I do feel rather like writing Vampires, though, so I might go after that for a bit.

Happenings.

My grandmother is being buried tomorrow. She died on Tuesday and I found out a short while later by phone. I've never lost a grandparent before. The only funerals I have been to have been great-grandparents and a family friend.


My Nana's death was not unexpected; to me, at least. I don't know. I think about things a lot. Constantly. Always thinking about what is about to happen next, running through the scenarios in my head.


She'd been in and out of the hospital for almost a year now and when I saw her on Sunday, she was running a fever and my mother (Nana was my maternal grandmother) spent the night there. I received a text on Monday saying she was in the hospital again and then a text on Tuesday asking me to call as soon as possible.


When I received the text, my first idea was that Nana had died. Not because of any evidence, but simply because it was one of a dozen or so things that ran through my head.


Perhaps it is my compartmentalisation, perhaps it is my lack of a sense of time about things, but I'm not particularly sad. I haven't cried at all or anything. I love my Nana, I've always felt a special connection with her. Over the summer, I'd spend several days at a time at her house, helping her around and getting her things to drink... My siblings were always to busy for that kind of thing. 


Her death is something that has happened. It is an event in my life. A momentary detour from normalcy. Tomorrow will feel like today, just as today feels like last week. People around me are always changing and I wonder why they do that.


What is it that drives people together during grief? My family all wants to be together and see people and do those kinds of things. I don't want that. I never want to be around people when I am feeling any emotion but the baseline. I don't want people to come and pat me on the back and tell me everything is okay, nor do I do that for other people. It's just not a part of who I am.


When I think of what I want to do, instead of a funeral and all of that, I see myself sitting alone, peacefully alone, and stacking smooth, flat stones on top of one another. I've always liked rocks, and she knew that.

Thinking.

Lately, as I walk around campus, I can't help but notice a distinct lack of pits for me to throw myself into and be slowly crushed under the weight of the eons. I do hope they remedy this soon.

Ideas

I go through stages of obsession about different things, depending on what I've been thinking about lately. Today, I have become overwhelmed with the thought that my ideas vanish if I don't remember them. I wish everything I thought, good and bad, were recorded and placed on file for me to look at later and organise. It's frustrating.

Worst Case Scenario

Things go, and they stop and now I don't know what's going on. I feel like someone has punched me in the stomach.

That Familiar Melancholy.

I'm feeling it again. Something I haven't felt in a long time is back.

I don't quite know what it is. I call "melancholy.This is a familiar thing to me, I knew it quite well some years ago. I am not sad, quite, but I feel now and then on the verge of tears. Things that aren't really sad, certain things, poke me somewhere.

I associate this feeling with Harvest Moon. I am... extraordinarily anxious about things that do not Matter or do not exist.

I think, now, that perhaps I am having a conflict between reality and fiction. Not that I am crazy, but normally I have everything very compartmentalized, an effect of my Dyspraxia, and perhaps this is what it is like to have things mixing.

It is uncomfortable and I do not like it.

Update

Things have been pretty hard lately, it seems. I'm doing my best to stay above water, but everything just feels so heavy. I'm sending out as many stimuli as I can and watching for any sign of life. Meanwhile, I've been shirking my duties trying to pretend that it won't come back to bite me.

This weekend should be nice, though. I'm going to the house in Tennessee. It has such great memories for me.

Time.

I've never had much sense for time. It's an effect of Dyspraxia; I simply don't notice the flow of time as others do. What distinguishes one moment from the last has mostly to do with what others are doing around me. I am much more comfortable reacting than initiating. I change my posture and mannerisms and speech based on who I am interacting with. Conversations to me are less about the exchange of information and more about the constant regulation of habits, back-channel, speech-modes and turn-taking. I am much more comfortable reacting. Perhaps the two are linked in some way.

Either way,

Lately... I feel that time is slipping away rather quickly. I don't feel any older. Each birthday, when someone asks "Do you feel like an year old?" I simply say "yes" because I set it in my mind that that's what it feels like. It's all very much the same.

Now, being a Romantic (and a Dyspraxic), I spend much of my time imagining hypothetical situations (partially for the fantasy of it all, partially so I have an idea of how some event or conversation might go). One situation (this one purely for fantasy) involves the classic genie and three wishes. What would I wish for? I've spent a great deal of time thinking of this.

Time.

One of my three wishes would be to have a place outside of reality in which I would not age and no time would pass in the real world. I would be able to travel back and forth from here to there at-will. I've always imagined this place being a very, very small room with a tv/computer, a dim lamp to read by and a pillow and blanket so I can sleep. No windows, no sun, no light. It is a place where I would go to rest and read and write and I would love to have that place right now.

But right now... Lately, as I feel the moments slip away as I spend my time living each day the same (with little progress in anything whatsoever), I've been feeling like going to a different place. I have an image in my head... a room. A living room? There's a couch or two, they're soft. Behind one is a window. A big window. There's another on a different wall. It's green outside, like big, leafy plants and the Sun is shining in as it just begins its descent onto the horizon in the late afternoon.

Such a place is very much opposed to my usual preferences of isolation and darkness. So why won't this image leave my head?

Writer's Block

In all honesty, I rarely get Writer's Block. Even at my worst, I can usually sit down and vomit something into gedit. But this time... I'm not sure that I've even written anything of note since November. I worked on "The Last City of Men" some, but that was almost all editting.

The worst part is that I have the urge to write right now. I've got all these vague ideas and even what seems like a really solid poem idea, but that little pool of water in my head that I scoop words out of seems to have dried up for the time-being.