http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/asiapcf/05/13/australia.driver.ap/index.html
Truly, I am awestruck.
-More to come later.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Dream
I had a tumultuous weekend, details arent necessary.
But I had a crazy dream that just has me thinking.
On saturday night, I dreamed I was dead. Like, freshly. I was hovering above my naked body, I was on a stainless steel gurney table, or something. Family came to identify the body but I couldnt really see who it was, and I could just hear whispers of what they were saying. People came, faceless friends whispered and left. I looked at all parts of my body- I looked really closely at a lot of the parts of my body, from what I can tell my dream was crazy accurate. I kept saying "what killed me?" but there were no visible clues. I looked so still and rested... weird, usually you dont smell in dreams, but I smelled death in this dream. Anyone who has seen someone die or has worked with sick/dying animals can tell you death has a smell. After a while, the area around me emptied and it was just me and the MLI (person who performs autopsy) and I heard his thoughts. Typical "so young, sad" stuff. My perspective shifted to his view of me briefly and then to random people reacting to my death (an old teacher, friends, etc) but then i was hovering above myself again. I was so confused. What was I supposed to do? How was I dead? Did I do everything that I wanted? Could I go back? Was I dreaming? I was amazed by my own form- like, the human body, skin, everything. I was confused where I was supposed to go. After the MLI cleaned me up, and just as the MLI started to make the Y-incision, I woke up. Confused, but alive.
It's really had an effect on me. I dont really fear death, but the dream really made me realize I can die. And what would happen to me? What if I do die young? I feel like I have a lot to do. As time is going on and I'm getting older, I am beginning to see how I affect people around me, and I'm starting to take responsibility for things that i've done, things I've said, and things they won't say. I am tough, but my life is fragile. I am still not scared of dying, but for the record- if I am to die, regardless of the circumstances- I have a file saved on my laptop that has my affairs in order.
I hope if I do die anytime soon, I do get to spend some time like I had in my dream- my body has been good to me and I've been pretty rough on it.
But I had a crazy dream that just has me thinking.
On saturday night, I dreamed I was dead. Like, freshly. I was hovering above my naked body, I was on a stainless steel gurney table, or something. Family came to identify the body but I couldnt really see who it was, and I could just hear whispers of what they were saying. People came, faceless friends whispered and left. I looked at all parts of my body- I looked really closely at a lot of the parts of my body, from what I can tell my dream was crazy accurate. I kept saying "what killed me?" but there were no visible clues. I looked so still and rested... weird, usually you dont smell in dreams, but I smelled death in this dream. Anyone who has seen someone die or has worked with sick/dying animals can tell you death has a smell. After a while, the area around me emptied and it was just me and the MLI (person who performs autopsy) and I heard his thoughts. Typical "so young, sad" stuff. My perspective shifted to his view of me briefly and then to random people reacting to my death (an old teacher, friends, etc) but then i was hovering above myself again. I was so confused. What was I supposed to do? How was I dead? Did I do everything that I wanted? Could I go back? Was I dreaming? I was amazed by my own form- like, the human body, skin, everything. I was confused where I was supposed to go. After the MLI cleaned me up, and just as the MLI started to make the Y-incision, I woke up. Confused, but alive.
It's really had an effect on me. I dont really fear death, but the dream really made me realize I can die. And what would happen to me? What if I do die young? I feel like I have a lot to do. As time is going on and I'm getting older, I am beginning to see how I affect people around me, and I'm starting to take responsibility for things that i've done, things I've said, and things they won't say. I am tough, but my life is fragile. I am still not scared of dying, but for the record- if I am to die, regardless of the circumstances- I have a file saved on my laptop that has my affairs in order.
I hope if I do die anytime soon, I do get to spend some time like I had in my dream- my body has been good to me and I've been pretty rough on it.
Friday, May 2, 2008
its nights like this where I feel like I am slipping into something crazier and crazier. The clock isnt reading a physically possible time. Everything falls apart. I wish I could lie in the grass and become engulfed in the plants and be taken back into the earth. My day is going to be hell. I cant sleep, I hurt. I also want to get a new outfit to wear to Ohio, I want to go somewhere exotic, I want to slice my forearms open and play with my blood. I want to be done with feeling like a sex object. I'm sure someone outside of my family, somewhere, somehow likes me for reasons transcending anything sexual, but I would like quite a few of you to step back and reexamine our relationship. If it werent for sexual stuff, how much more or less would you care about me? How much of myself can I pour into an individual if i get to watch those same grains of myself fall right through the sieve in their eyes? Meaningless, nothingless... yes strangely familiar. I shouldnt be surprised; the thorns have been in my side for months but the stinging burning pain is unrelenting. There are men, there are women, there is me. My head alone is another entry to write about. I'll stick to one man, and one woman.
One woman though in particular- shes smooth, understanding, demure- and a total fucking tease. Ive liked her for two goddamn years and I am as of yet to do more than waste a few hundred dollars courting her. I want to say sorry to her. Sorry I thought youd ever sincerely turn to me. Sorry for trying to listen to you whenever you were rambling about a life you lead that will never include me. Sorry for the things I did say and sorry for responding to your smooth, goddess-like hand sliding up my thigh. Sorry for rolling around laughing in the grass with you at that concert. Sorry for never caring that we were openly gay in public. Sorry you make me secure enough to want to publicly display my emotions for you. I cant blame you. Youre not human to me any more. I'm sorry, I dont know what to do with you. Find another girlfriend with a wacky hairstyle and a quirky life. I'm sorry my bed is no longer for you.
There is one man too. Worship me. Love me. Look into my eyes when we talk. Like we used to. Carve out a piece of this world I barely understand and tell me what to do, or don't, but hold my hand as I stumble around and make the best of it. Fuck pride. Fuck all that stuff.
The most disturbing thing about that last paragraph is I have no idea who its aimed at. I dont know myself anymore. I want to get away, to run away, to just get away for now. God, please.
Let me get away please
Please
One woman though in particular- shes smooth, understanding, demure- and a total fucking tease. Ive liked her for two goddamn years and I am as of yet to do more than waste a few hundred dollars courting her. I want to say sorry to her. Sorry I thought youd ever sincerely turn to me. Sorry for trying to listen to you whenever you were rambling about a life you lead that will never include me. Sorry for the things I did say and sorry for responding to your smooth, goddess-like hand sliding up my thigh. Sorry for rolling around laughing in the grass with you at that concert. Sorry for never caring that we were openly gay in public. Sorry you make me secure enough to want to publicly display my emotions for you. I cant blame you. Youre not human to me any more. I'm sorry, I dont know what to do with you. Find another girlfriend with a wacky hairstyle and a quirky life. I'm sorry my bed is no longer for you.
There is one man too. Worship me. Love me. Look into my eyes when we talk. Like we used to. Carve out a piece of this world I barely understand and tell me what to do, or don't, but hold my hand as I stumble around and make the best of it. Fuck pride. Fuck all that stuff.
The most disturbing thing about that last paragraph is I have no idea who its aimed at. I dont know myself anymore. I want to get away, to run away, to just get away for now. God, please.
Let me get away please
Please
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
