Why'd I even waste my time?

You know, I was thinking, even though I'm super conflicted - that maybe I made a mistake. But the more I think about it the more I realize...I wasn't that important. At least - my thoughts weren't.

When I said...maybe you should go to the doctor...go see a professional?

Instead you spend 400+ dollars on a bike. Randomly. An unnecessary bike.

I said, you need help that I can't give you and I think you need to get it.
You go out to some random place and spend gas money on it. And now you randomly buy a ticket to Europe and a new camera.

What the fuck? Thousands of dollars on frivolous things, but not 80 on just one fucking doctors appointment!?!

Whatever, it doesn't matter how much love notes you write me. Things like this just scream how much you never actually cared what I thought to began with.

Girl in Landscape

Broken up girl clawing through this dead city. Burying herself underneath the rubble of once heavy structures and hiding out the hot long days. In the midnight - shed her skin climb from between concrete slabs. Make a mirror out of empty sky and trace the motion of wind with eyes. Has a truce with the darkened paths - to keep her safe. In exchange she tears out her parts and leaves them in landscape.

Learning!

As I round off another long night of work at the quiet and slightly boring Cafaro desk I thought it would be appropriate to update a bit.

Hoy, por exemplo, I thought it would be a great fucking idea to learn to knit.
I have about 90% of it down. It is the keeping concentration going to actually complete something - part that I'm bad at. I just don't understand it. I have cooking skills that Emeril would be envious of. I can read novels faster than some people walk a mile. I can write about 90 pages of something in a few hours. But for some reason...I'm far too distracted to learn a knit stitch.

Maybe I'll learn to do something easier, like, not be weird in public or something.

Tell me about tomorrow...

Yesterday, I had this dream. This dream involved me working in some sort of educational institution. It almost looked the a hotel lobby but it was basically unspoken that there were classrooms and such. I was sort of like an intern person and I was told by someone to go to the basement to find such and such a thing.

(Now I've been having strange and creepy dreams...VERY creepy dreams for the past couple of months. And this one is the creepiest yet.)

So I walk down to this basement, and basements in general are creepy. But this one was HELL like the bowels of hell. Weird octopus creatures, shadowy dark figures, monsters with no faces. The whole creepy nine yards. Basically the only thing keeping me from falling deep into this pit was me walking on planks of wood that shook. This shadow man in a top hat kept grabbing my arm telling me to come with him. To come further into the basement. To not wake up.

I knew I was dreaming - and was trying to wake up but he wouldn't let me. I screamed for my father in the dream, screamed for my cat. But the shadow became more aggressive. I ran and hid behind a crate and began praying.

(Now those of you that know me know that I'm scared to point to there being any sort of God, or anything. I'm more prone to calling everyone's "God" the"universe." But I prayed anyway)

I kept saying, "Please, please, whatever is out there, universe, god, whatever you are called...help me wake up please." In the dream I was having a crisis of faith. A CRISIS OF FUCKING FAITH. This didn't wake me up - what woke me up was the fact that I had picked up my phone and used it as a weapon. I actually got up (sleep walking) grabbed my phone from my pants pocket and waved it madly at the shadow man. Whom now was walking at me in my room as I was waking up.

I'm starting to feel as though something is changing in me - in my life. I'm starting to not care about things. I'm starting to feel like there isn't enough time for me. I'm starting to feel like I'm wasting my life. This scares me for a number of reasons. But it mostly scares me because this is how people I know have felt before they died. Death is just a change, and maybe it is just a personality change. A quarter life crisis that is making itself apparent in dreams. But it is still creepy. My dreams are gory and involve me being forced to give up my soul in all of them or give up the soul of my loved ones. But I fight like hell in all of them.