Tuesday, October 9, 2012

love is blindness

The past two nights I've been haunted by the kind of realistic dreams that don't even feel like dreams at all. They lack all surrealism and fantasy that make dreams worth having. They are boring and terrible and too real for comfort. And they started with a fight.

It's weird how we can actualize our own fears in what I can only assume is either an attempt to understand them or to come to terms with the fact that they are real and probably stirring within your every action. I fear that with that, we can find that our actions are motivated by a subconscious feeling. One based on a feeling from a dream is worse because it's not even real in this universe.

The first dream's details have faded from memory, but I remember waking up breathing hard and fully unable to control my lungs. Laying in my bed I had just been in someone's living room with C and his friends, whom I didn't know. A girl came over to C and hand outstretched, pulled him off the couch and took him to another room. I of course flip the fuck out demanding to know what is happening right now. He takes me aside and says its over. It's not working anymore and he is going to hang out with this new chick. Nothing I can do about it. Over. **Wake up without breath**

The second is more clear and direct. Slightly odd, my boyfriend's mom, my mom and aunt are all going to Europe on vacation. The five of us arrive and are eating in some cafĂ©, when my boyfriend disappears.  What seems like an hour later, after consulting all forms of contacting him, I get a text saying, "I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore. I have a wife and family in Houston and can't avoid it anymore." Drama ensues, but again I awake flabbergasted. 

I have no fucking clue why this keeps happening to me in my dreams, and I awake with a betrayed disgusted feeling towards the man laying to my left, innocent and involved in his own dream adventures. 

It's obvious the fights I mention have to do with feelings of abandonment and the fear of being left behind. But those feelings were revisited because of a very real act of not showing up when and where I asked him to.  What was technically a minor event, has stirred up thoughts that he wants to avoid me, and lacks the necessary means of communication to NOT avoid me, and therefore I'm led to believe that he doesn't even know that he doesn't want to be with me but is acting on the motivation of his subconscious. Fucking TWISTED. 

I'm fully torn between the idea that this is something I should dive further into and something I should bury with the weekend, for the way it has permeated my dreams and actions cannot be healthy for either of us as my argument is based on assumptions and dreams.

Meanwhile I feel completely codependent and like I'm worrying about this far too much for my own good. I cannot allow fear to distract me from other parts of my life. 

Side Note: 
Another dream I've yet to analyze involved me and my sister on some sort of lighthouse buoy thing in the middle of the cold ocean where she keeps dropping things and I dive into the ocean completely ignorant of the possibility of sharks or other bad things. It's tempestuous in setting but blissful in mood. 

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

the weight of things unknown to my conscious mind are weighing on me, quite literally in the chest area. New feelings of jealousy and insecurity have entered the equation like mysterious berries enter a savory salad. get out of there!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012


i hate that they wrote "we are infinite" on the poster.

the line in the book was "in that moment i swear we were infinite"

the best line trivialized, its not the reader's secret anymore

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I'm such a fucking cynic.
The stories we romanticize as children, the bigger than life, happier-than-they-really-were memories that we have, I look back on with a sense of realism that almost ruins it. Because I have my own, that even I am unable to break down into anything other than blissful moments.

But when I hear those of others, the unimaginative me comes out, judging and ridiculing in my brain until the wine hits it enough to let me speak those unmentionable thoughts outloud, and I wish I fucking wouldn't! Why can't I let him have his moments of bliss, his untouched memories crafted by a child who doesn't know any better. I have to taint it with nasty realism. Rational thought. Why do we adults let this permeate our brains?

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

growing pains

i'm sure its a common thing, but myself being so far removed from any memory of a relationship or anything like it, I am trying to keep perspective as it stretches and molds itself into some new being. The relationship that is. I'm speaking about my new one. The tiny milestones you pass; jumping over hurdles of copying keys and driving each others cars, and miniature fights.