I had an interesting dream, again. im not writing about it. Not because i forgot it, i wish i did. it was weird. very weird, my dreams always been weird. i wake up, and i sit there wondering what the fuck just happened, then spend the rest of the day remembering another piece of it every few minutes. while id rather leave it alone, it doesnt seem interested in leaving me alone. soo.. instead, i spent half the day building one of those little DIY houses. my therapist keeps insisting i need hobbies. i guess sitting in silence with nicotine and alcohol doesnt qualify as a hobby. who wouldve guessed. i actually finished it. some parts are a little.. crooked. turns out tiny furniture and oversized hands arent exactly a great combination, anyway its standing. while i dont think the people living in my imaginary little house would complain. if they do, they can build their own. at least it kept my hands busy. my head refused to cooperate. it keeps going back to the dream. or, more accurately, to the beginning of it. she was there. angel. she always is. every single dream starts with her, always. she looks at me, i look at her, then she wraps her hands around my neck. i stop breathing, then everything goes black, and then. the actual dream starts. like shes introducing me to whatever nightmare decided to creep in that night.i dont think ive ever mentioned that to her. im not hiding it. i just dont know what to say about it. i love her, i dont understand why shes always the first thing i see, i dont understand why it always starts the same way. every single day. i dont even hate it, i probably should. but i just dont. i spent longer than id like to admit trying to remember every detail today. Since.. i dont have anything else to keep my mind busy right now, i guess ill investigate my dreams instead. usually i’d have something else to analyze. a person, perhaps a situation, a pattern. Something with actual clues. Something that follows rules. something where people make mistakes and eventually reveal what they’re hiding. well, sad for me. nothing interesting for me to work on. so congratulations, dreams? brain? you are my next investigation. a collection of random images and nonsense is somehow more difficult to understand than actual people. while it seems easy, it really not . im better at understanding murder than i am at understanding those dreams that include her.
I thought i understood how this works, i thought everything had a reason behind it. i thought i was good at finding things. i was until i started looking at..
Sincerely, surrounded by questions.