Vivid Dreams - Glassblowing

                I realized that I’m unnaturally cynical in my posts. If Inx is sad-angst, mine is angry-angst. And really, I’d rather not. And I’m not even that angry all the time. In fact, I can be very, very happy, and very, very silly. Actually, no, it’s more like 50% I’m ranting about something angrily, and 45% of the time I’m blathering on about something happily and slightly incoherently, and 5% I’m actually like lucid and normal. How silly! Like, I noticed how in my entire The Writing Life post, I’m either going I HATE YOU SHUT UP AND FINISH THE BOOK ALREADY, or LOL I LIKE SUPER JUNIOR AND RANDOMNESS I’M GOING TO REFER TO THAT EXISTS IN MY LIFE, and I made like one semi-amusing statement that people who follow normal American mainstream culture would like. Sorry, American-mainstream culture, I really don’t like you. You’re not worth it.

                I think I am witty sometimes, but really rather rarely. It’s unfortunate. I feel like I’m a lot more interesting in topics that I am interested in. Or really, in things that other people aren’t interested in. Or very – okay, I’m tired of being lucid. Being clear-headed is really boring.

                Actually, I was decently angry still. Haha, either way, the point that I was trying to get at is that it makes my blog pretty uninteresting to read. I –

                I’m pretty sure that it’s too hard to keep a thought running in my head when I’m constantly checking my email. I’m saying that it’s painful for people to read my angst, and really, I don’t think that they want to… it took  me like three paragraphs to get my point across. Or 4. I’m sorry, I’m just really wordy and confused! And this is like a really, really public diary. But has none of my more intimate thoughts. But really, Super Junior just runs through my head all the time anyways. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have more intimate thoughts.

                Oh, I had a dream, and K- was in it (K-, this means that you should read this part), actually there were a lot of other people, too, but I don’t remember them. We were working as like…. Glassblowing apprentices. Yeah, I don’t even. Either way, the glassblower person would just give us kind of rough looking globes, and we would use this weird random circular tool to make it smooth or whatever. Yeah, I don’t actually know how it works, and I’m pretty sure you can’t sand glass like you sand wood, but whatever, it was a dream. Either way, you were really good at it. And I started later, and I was watching you, and I was like, psh, how hard could it be, since you just kind of roll it around in the mold and then it’s awesome. So I try to do it. and then at first, I was like PSH THIS IS SO EASY, and then my globe started to become deformed. So I start more frantically trying to fix it into the direction it’s supposed to go. And then suddenly, I have this RANDOM WEIRD AIR POCKET THAT IS DEAD SPACE. And then I’m terrified and I try to fix it faster. And then suddenly, it becomes a tube, all the air deflates, and it shrivels up into a kind of porous-ish looking silver metal. And then the glassblower guy is really mad at me and is just like WOW YOU SUCK AT LIFE. I’m going to give you an easier job to do. And then he hands me this TINY BOWL that is basically the size of a quarter, fills it up with like a few tiny strings of spaghetti, and he’s just like HAVE PEOPLE SAMPLE THE SPAGHETTI AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK ON HOW THE SPAGHETTI IS. And then people are laughing at me because I was just demoted to a really pathetic role. So I take the chopsticks, and I try to pick up the tiny piece of spaghetti. After flailing for a bit, I feed it to K-. And my general reaction after that is WTF WHY AM I DOING THIS. And then I get reassigned again because I was like WTF and questioning my role. They do not appreciate me questioning authority. Either way, I worked in some sort of warehouse with a tanning bed facility. Either way, we needed to clean the warehouse with some kind of liquid with like… sulfuric acid or something. Either way, apparently it was really dangerous or something, and I would die if it got on my skin. Anyways, I think my dream warped a bit, and somehow it was the day that we needed to clean. I just had this random powered spray bottle, and I was spraying it on everything. And it got all over my arms, and then when the alarm went off to notify that we were cleaning, I was like oh crap, I need to be in protective gear, and then I flipped out. I ran through the factory and washed myself off frantically. Then I got gear, which was… short sleeved. I’m not sure why I felt protected after that, but I was wearing short sleeves and gloves. And pants. And they kind of reminded me of scrubs, except for with hearts. Kind of like pajamas or like dentist shirts. Either way, I had to struggle really hard to find them and get them on because I was the only one who didn’t have them on. And then I kind of was like OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO DIE. And then I woke up.

                This is what I get for sleeping 16 hours.

                Also, here is a more epic version of what I saw in my head. By the way, they look really sleepy and not put together because they were just forcibly woken up semi-not-kind ways. Like having puppies crawl all over you. And hitting you with a pillow. And putting a wig and makeup (well, I think that was just getting revenge). Either way, pajamas are really cute, and they make them look like little kids, and it’s really adorkable.

Dreams - my own warped reality

“Every time I see you in my dreams, I see your face, it’s haunting me”

Dreams are really scary for me. You know the “a dream is a wish your heart makes/in dreams you will lose your heartache” phrase? For me, it’s more like “a dream is a mirror of your life, whether it’s heartbreak or happiness”. And unfortunately for me, it’s heartbreak a lot of the time.

The dreams are really realistic too – I can see every detail of his face, every expression: which is basically extra creepy because it means that I’ve stored all these details in my brain. And it’s like if something was very significant in my life, I experience it over and over again. But not the good things. More like the absolutely terrible things. They replay and replay over and over in my head.

I hate this twisted reality – not knowing what’s real… not being able to tell it’s a dream… well, no I can tell it’s a dream. But it’s definitely realistic, even if it’s warped. There are parts of it that are so real: I can see the setting, each place that I’ve been before, places that apparently have significance to me. However, there are very strange aspects of it – driving a bed instead of a car, a jungle inside an airport, the walls made of leather and patterned like – I’m not even sure. But it was cushioned. And the wall was massive. And beautiful – I remember once I was lying on the ground, staring at it… I’ve never seen anything like that in my life, yet I saw it in my dream in such vivid detail.

Very rarely, actually, can I ever remember specific people. It’s like people aren’t important enough for me to remember, I remember the setting, the emotions – I know people are there, and I think most of the time they are people I don’t know. People that are faceless (but they aren’t actually faceless, they have faces that I just don’t care about or recognize) that allow me to float in a crowd, surrounded yet completely alone.

Just like I know there were people on the highway, they were inside the cars, yet I didn’t see any of them. I just knew that the cars weren’t empty, the streets filled, and I walked facing the view and I sang with every drop of feeling in my soul. I sang beautifully – too bad it’s something I can’t do in real life. I can remember everything I felt, the utter anguish, loneliness… it mirrors my life. I’ve always wanted to analyze my dreams, figure out what I really wanted on the inside… but I’m not sure it actually works that way. I know it’s an extension of my subconscious, and really, I can probably find out a lot about myself just by doing that… maybe. It’s not like I’m blind. I think I see myself for who I am… I can see my flaws, I know what I yearn for… unless I really don’t know and my subconscious is desperately trying to tell me something. But that seems strange to me, that I don’t actually know myself. Of course I know myself! Silliness.

I dislike disturbing dreams. They make my entire morning uneasy, they make me not want to see people just because they were terrible in my dreams. And then I feel bad for being so influenced by myself, by my dream.

I’ve been writing this post for about three and a half hours. Sorry if it sounds super choppy and repetitive, I’ve just been distracted. I might post again.

Oh, and just because I feel like I need to add a picture on… I don’t really feel in the mood though. I feel a bit depressed and unwilling and unknowing and unsure. Yes, unsure, that was the word that I was going for. And I’m just letting all the words that come to mind tumble, tumble right out of my mouth. I need to find a picture…. Well, let’s just put a picture of T.O.P J Because he is full of fabulousness and adorableness. I love how they’re all just super adorable ♥

And suddenly, my mood just got about ten thousand times better

AW Effect

This is a very discontinuous rant that I attempted to make continuous at points. Also I am being purposely vague because this is a public blog, and so if it doesn’t make sense to you, it’s probably not supposed to.

The Archaic Weaponry Effect (AW Effect) (it’s referencing something that K-, M-, Inx, and I made up in the car ride over that was full of both giggles and “oh God what are we going to think of next” and thinking about Taboo and lots of randomness about Halloween party and our uterus/virginity hurting… but not collectively because we are not in sync yet… along with awesome story that most people will not think is awesome but we think is awesome because we have a very weird sense of humor) actually has nothing to do with weapons. The AW Effect exists when two entities are extremely close to the point where I can’t tell where one mind starts and the other finishes, and they seem to be completely at odds regarding the – well, actually I won’t say, because I would assume it would make it too obvious. And dear readers, you most likely already know what’s going on, but for the few of you who don’t, I’d like to keep you in the dark. But they take turns, and there is a passing period where life basically sucks for any third party involved.

It’s just something that inflicts my every day life with abnormal amounts of pain, and makes me wish that I really didn’t care. Because honestly, how hard is it for two instances of something to occur simultaneously? Do you script my life? Because if you do, really, can you make it better? Seriously? And why do you have to be so mean to me. You make me cry. Feel bad. Now. But of course you do not feel bad. Of course you probably do not have any idea what you are doing to me, neither of you. Unless you guys are actually secret masterminds who are plotting out my life to make it so that I am perpetually miserable, in which case, you guys are horrible. Emphasis on the whore.

On a completely different note, I’ve been listening to “Dreaming of You” (E-, you should be happy! It’s the first song that I listen to that has had like… any Spanish at all in it J). Late at night when the all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you… and I wish on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too… I do wish. So much so that breathing hurts. It’s such a pretty song! L-, thanks for being more of a hopeless romantic than I am, and printing out fanfic for me every morning. And having Love Actually on your Zune. Because you kind of brighten up my day all the time. Seriously, you are one of the most fabulous people I know. And having a glitter wand made of a bubble tea straw. Oh you, I should tell you to do homework instead of making my life so much more wonderful. All I have are dreams of you… and a few cherished memories, even if you don’t like them. (Oh, before you readers get confused, I’m referencing two different people. At least. I might end up referencing like six.) I’m dreaming of you tonight Really, I don’t have dreams. I have nightmares. About the silliest things. But I do have nightmares always, and they’re always so realistic. And if you’re reading it, you’ve graced a dream of mine. Yes dream, not nightmare. FEEL SPECIAL.

I love my friends more than anything in the world. I am super grateful for them. They’re just the light of my world when my life seems to be collapsing (but really, it’s just dull. I want a shiny world, please). Okay, I am done with my pretty fail rant. Goodnight, all you readers.

(Oh, and to !!!: I really, really, really, really, really, really love your blog. So update it please.)