Pardon our dust, this corridor of the mall is going through some improvements! (What I mean is, I'm redesigning to better align with my vision and professional goals, but I accidentally deleted some of the old parts of the website and now things look weird. I need to afford to pay someone to do the stuff for me).
Anyway, I don't have anything particularly important to talk about. It's been ages since I talked about anything going on; I've been in my own world a lot recently. That'll be coming to an end soon.
I had this really vivid dream about cheesecake earlier and was super pissed when I woke up and there was no cheesecake. That’s not the dream that I want to talk about though. This other dream I had last night, was really weird. I dream about fighting when I’m stressed out. It’s one of those subconscious things I’ve begun to recognize about myself. I can have a dream about fighting someone, and know there’s a problem I’m not letting myself deal with and then spend some time alone and figuring my shit out until the fighting dreams stop. For someone who threatens to punch people in the face a lot, and actually takes pride in having punched a grown man in the face during a mosh pit, I hate fighting. I fucking hate it. I think it’s rude, and disgusting, and violent, and watching MMA made me cry once. I fucking hate fighting. I don’t even like arguing that much.
So, I had this crap ass dream about fighting. Usually, my standard fighting nightmare features me arguing or fighting with the same person every time, so even though I wake up sweaty and short of breath, I can turn that off and go back to sleep rather quickly. This one was different. I was a student at my old elementary school and this girl kept following me. She was smaller than I was, and had curly blonde hair, and criticized every fucking thing I did. I slumped and had posture, I smelled weird, I wasn’t a good singer, I should give up…I didn’t matter what I did in the dream, this bitch kept running her goddamned mouth. My friends kept telling her to stop and I kept telling them to ignore her, but neither approach matter, because the bitch kept going. She ran her mouth until I couldn’t take it anymore and we started fighting. I let this little bitch have it before I woke up. I thought it was weird, but went to move about my day.
I was getting my nails done, which I think of as a necessary evil. I love the end result and it keeps me from biting them to shit, but sitting still for an hour and letting someone touch me is personal torture. I slouched in my chair and reproached myself, “Stop slouching, everyone is going to think you’re a slob”. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. That little bitch in the dream was just another version of me*. The me that has been giving myself hell recently.
I got some shit to work on.
*There's a school of psychology that thinks everyone in your dreams is you. I think it's Freud or Jung? I don't feel like googling this.