Oh, I will be with you, running from the rain
life is nothing without the random, seemingly disjointed things that happen that keep it a tad surreal.
at my suicidegirls account, rather than write another blog, i simply post something short with a link to this blog, and finish by typing, "not even star-crossed, just unlucky."
most of the current beloved non-existant readers weren't there in the very beginning, the earliest days of this tiny shit-stain on the world-wide web, when i decided to use that line from the codiene song, "cigarette machine" as the title of this blog.
a few days ago, at suicidegirls, i get a comment on my blog from someone i have never talked to before, and who, as far as i can tell, would have no reason to be reading my blog in the first place, i.e. we have no friends in common, and i can figure out no other reason why she might've ended up on my profile, saying: hey, that's a codiene lyric.
well, i had to send her a friendship invite, right?
those are the kinds of things that make life fun for me.
the night before last, i had a "long" dream (the kind that feel and play sort of like movies) in which i met up somewhere with my very first crush.
we will call her tm. we met at church. she had long red hair and pale skin, big blue eyes, and she seemed (for the first time i could remember) as interested in me as i was in her. we were eleven.
we couldn't really date, being that young, but for a few years we talked every sunday at church, and our families would often get together for bbq's and the like.
as we got older, she figured out i wasn't very cool, and started crushing on guys who were. but we were still friends and still talked on occasion, though not as frequently as before.
then they moved. to another state.
when i have dreams about her (which isn't very often, but more often than should be considering i haven't talked to her in forever), she is always unhappy with her religious choices, disgruntled, single, hot (of course), and, it seems, every time, looking to fuck me. or be fucked by me. however you want to paint it.
now, i highly doubt that this is the state that she is in. i'm sure she is happily married, with a few wonderful children that she adores.
now, could she just stay the fuck outta my dreams?
darth sardonic
at my suicidegirls account, rather than write another blog, i simply post something short with a link to this blog, and finish by typing, "not even star-crossed, just unlucky."
most of the current beloved non-existant readers weren't there in the very beginning, the earliest days of this tiny shit-stain on the world-wide web, when i decided to use that line from the codiene song, "cigarette machine" as the title of this blog.
a few days ago, at suicidegirls, i get a comment on my blog from someone i have never talked to before, and who, as far as i can tell, would have no reason to be reading my blog in the first place, i.e. we have no friends in common, and i can figure out no other reason why she might've ended up on my profile, saying: hey, that's a codiene lyric.
well, i had to send her a friendship invite, right?
those are the kinds of things that make life fun for me.
the night before last, i had a "long" dream (the kind that feel and play sort of like movies) in which i met up somewhere with my very first crush.
we will call her tm. we met at church. she had long red hair and pale skin, big blue eyes, and she seemed (for the first time i could remember) as interested in me as i was in her. we were eleven.
we couldn't really date, being that young, but for a few years we talked every sunday at church, and our families would often get together for bbq's and the like.
as we got older, she figured out i wasn't very cool, and started crushing on guys who were. but we were still friends and still talked on occasion, though not as frequently as before.
then they moved. to another state.
when i have dreams about her (which isn't very often, but more often than should be considering i haven't talked to her in forever), she is always unhappy with her religious choices, disgruntled, single, hot (of course), and, it seems, every time, looking to fuck me. or be fucked by me. however you want to paint it.
now, i highly doubt that this is the state that she is in. i'm sure she is happily married, with a few wonderful children that she adores.
now, could she just stay the fuck outta my dreams?
darth sardonic
Labels: randomness, sanity is for the weak-minded, thursday
posted by darth sardonic at 2:30 AM
6 Comments:
Right, or at least give you a GOOOOOD dream to write about ;) :P
lmao d-hor! she tries, in most of the dreams she all but jumps me.
Feel I have been a little out of synch with whats been going on for you. Enjoyed this post and will be back a bit more often. Dreams are haunting melodies from the unconscious. I love to work with dreams - says so much about what is REALLY going on.
so what you're saying, queen, is that i want to sleep with my first crush? well, i mean if the opportunity arose... lol. my dreams are usually weird, which i love.
I wonder what she represents in your dreams? Lost opportunities maybe?
no idea z
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