Friday, September 29, 2006

“You have to, you just have to trust me. / Whoever I was then, / I can’t ever be again.”

“Miami”, Taking Back Sunday, Louder Now

Dreams suck.  Thank God, Jesus, FSM, and anyone else responsible for the fact that I don’t dream very often.  This (the night before last) is actualy the first dream that I’ve had since I’ve been here at R.I.T.  Then, I had another fucking dream last night!  God dammit!  I don’t remember much of last night’s dream, aside from the fact that is wasn’t as creepy as the previous night’s dream.  That dream, however, … holy shit …

I never know when/where my dreams start, but I believe my memory of started with me in a car, my mother driving.  We were in Brooklyn Square (a small section of Jamestown with a Tim Horton’s, a Chinese restaurant, a Big Lots, and three drug stores).  There were talks of a terrorist attack, and planes were flying about overhead.  I remember a lot of talking, but the subject now escapes me.  Anyway, one of the planes hit the area of the bridge; we barely escaped it.  Then, as we got done with our “Thank God”s, I looked out the windshield (upward), and saw a plane coming straight down at us.

Then I awoke in a cold sweat, with two hours until my alarm went off.  I thought about getting up, but general laziness allowed me to go back to sleep (two hours isn’t enough to dream anyway).

Man, I fucking hate dreams.