I can't get that dream out of my head! I've never been so... Preoccupied by an actor before. Not like this.

I dunno.

It's a weird feeling.

But it's not really a good-weird. I feel... Not okay.

Okay as in happy.

So, not happy.

Why am I feeling so down?

God damn dreams! They make no sense! There is nothing we can take from our dreams. They aren't fucking wishes our hearts make. They're just images and thoughts that go on in our brain when we're asleep, and no real, sentimental meaning can be drawn from them!

On a side note... Writing micro fiction is fun. Fiction that is about two hundred-fifty words. It's hard, but it's pretty fun. I like it. But whether or not my micro fiction is good, that's another thing. I guess we'll find out after critiques!

I HAD THE FUCKING STRANGEST DREAM EVER...

I was in a relationship with I think Dylan (who played Zack on that show. Don't want to say last names.) And like... We kissed a lot. Almost the entirety of the dream. And the kissing was just so fucking realistic. As if it were real. So fucking weird!

So much tongue!!

But his name wasn't Dylan. It was, like, Cole or Noel. (Cole would be his brother, though.) I think at one point I called him Noel Kahn. But it was definitely Dylan.

But I was also making out with David. (Played Justin on that show with magic. Again, don't want to say specifics.) Why David, I don't know. But I think his name was actually Justin in the dream?

But why I was making out with him, I don't know either. It was so weird. It was more of a joking-making out with him. Not a real-making out with him. Neither of us were putting real effort into it.

Oh, and there was mention of those pictures of Dylan that were leaked onto the Internet in December!

This might be a dream I would possibly like to revisit.

Possibly. Maybe. Potentially.

Definitely? Fuck yeah!

A really strange, but emotional dream last night.

A different kind of sadness than the previous dream. This was more about losing a parent.

My parents were getting a divorce, and I guess during the process (or between the separation and then the actual filing of/court date for the divorce, I'm not sure), my mom got pregnant. Maybe that was the cause of the divorce? I don't know. It wasn't really a big part of the dream, though. Just a random fact.

But once my parents were officially divorced, I wasn't allowed to see my father. I guess, because I was standing next to my mother at the time, I was ruled on her side, and neither of us could associate with my dad anymore. Somehow, it was the rule? I wasn't really on my mom's side. But my dad didn't fight it. There was no mention of whether he was okay with the ruling or not, but he didn't fight it. I was an absolute mess. I was screaming at the judge, I was screaming at my dad, but no one cared. Then I went to my friend's house, but it was like falling apart because we were in some kind of apocalyptic event? And we—my mom, dad, and I—had to climb to the top of a building, and I made the comment that I wasn't the one who got pregnant with another man or something. That's the only reason I know that my mom was pregnant. I was furious at this point, because I wasn't supposed to be associating with my dad anymore. But it was never really put into effect, because we had to climb to the top of a building to stay safe almost immediately after the divorce.

I don't know. It was really strange. But I can't shake the feeling from the dream. It's really hard to explain. I know I'm hardly explaining the dream fully, but I can't remember a lot of it, and I can't put into words what really happened.

I would pay millions of dollars for a device or machine or something that could "print" or "develop" dreams and put it on a screen. Or something. That way I could watch what really happened, and maybe try and make some sense of it.

Do I put too much thought into dreams? Why do they impact me so much and stay with me for so long? Why, oh why?

So I watched House at the End of the Street, and it was a really weird movie. Some parts weren't written too well, but the plot was really good. But Max Theiriot... God, he's fucking gorgeous. He and Logan Lerman! And Norman Reedus. Love those actors.

But Max's character... There's something about him. Aside from his dark side, which isn't entirely his fault since he suffered through a traumatic childhood, he's enticing.

There's something about this place, man...

I dunno if it's the place. But I had a dream last night. I don't really remember what it was, but there was a tall guy. I think he was in some kind of hoodie. Something large that kind of hid him. I don't remember his face. And I don't remember anything else about him, or the dream, even. Just that it was sad. I guess he kept cuddling me to make sure I was okay. Like, it was a weird kind of sad. Not the Pop-Pop or Cotton kind of sad. It's just a sadness. Or something. It was really very strange. And the guy, there wasn't anything romantic between us, but just comforting. But it's distracted me all day. And I've been exhausted all day, like I didn't get enough sleep. I've felt it all week, really.

Then, earlier in the week, I had a dream that I was in some kind of dorm, and I guess Andrew B. was my RA or something? It's so random, I know. I haven't seen Andrew since... I went to Homecoming the year after I (and the year he should have) graduated. But I guess I had a few roommates, and one wasn't there yet, and I guess something happened in the room... And Andrew was going to write us up, but he didn't have to. I think we were just sitting on the fourth roommate's bed, but I guess that wasn't okay. But she wasn't there yet, so it wasn't a big deal. And I guess Andrew didn't want to write me up, but he had to, because it was his job. So I was begging him not to, and I guess he regretted it? I don't know. I guess it was a big deal to be written up, too. Like, big consequences. And I kept telling him that he knew me, and he knew I wasn't that kind of person. (I think drugs were some how involved... Or something bad, maybe vandalism or something.) I dunno. It was weird. Really weird.

But right now I want to cry. I don't know why. It's kind of weird.

On a side note, the cow is in the hospital. My dad texted me early Wednesday morning, telling me she was in the ICU on a respirator and morphine. Then my mom told us Thursday morning that one of her co-workers, who knows the cow, said that the cow was in an induced coma and that friends and family should say their goodbyes. It's not very long now, I guess.

 I'm not sure, really, how I feel about that. All I can think of is Pop-Pop. I may hate the cow and her trash clan, but... Do I wish that pain, the pain him and his loved ones felt, on anyone? I don't know. Part of me says yes, I do. Because they deserve it. But part of me says no, you shouldn't wish it on anyone. Whether or not they deserve the pain is another thing. Wishing it upon them is totally different. I can't say I'm happy, but I really can't say I'm sad, either. Except for maybe two of the cow's grandkids, Steph and Bill. They, as far as I can tell, were the only two too stupid to be inherently evil. At least Steph tried to be nice to me. And Bill actually helped Pop-Pop out quite a bit. They're losing their grandmother, and I know what that feels like. And they already lost Pop-Pop, and I'm sure that still hurts. Even if he wasn't their grandfather, they lived with him. Sometimes I hate how much closer to him they were. I really do regret not spending more time with him. All that time... Lost forever. I can't get it back, and I can't make it up.

And it makes me realize that I should really be spending more time with the grandparents I have left. I take for granted the fact that I still have them. I want to be selfish and keep them forever. I know I can't, though. Fate is a fickle bitch, and we don't get along too well. Not after everything fate has given me. I know that some things are just part of life, and I shouldn't feel cheated because of it. Everything that lives has to die. I know that. But I can still be upset over it though, right?

But it's more than just that. It's a lot of things. Sure, I don't have as much to complain about as some people. I've never really gone through anything traumatic. I have a (however leaky) roof over my head. I have food to eat. I have (however few) clothes to wear. I have both of my parents still. I have friends. I have all my limbs. I have a lot of things.

I know I'm incredibly lucky. I know that. And I'm forever grateful for what I have. I really, truly am.

But there's still so much wrong in my life, and I just don't know what to do. There's something bringing me down now, and I can't even describe it, because I don't know what it is. Something about my dream, but I can't remember it.

God damn it, I wish I could remember it.

And I wish I knew who this faceless person in my dream is. Faceless guys always appear. I don't know if it's the same one, or just a place holder... Am I naive to think that he's the one I'm looking for? Sappy, hopeless, stupid? I don't know. I put too much value in dreams, I think.

But this place. College. Yeah, I'm back. I don't want to be. I'm so done. I'm done with Angela, with homework, with living...

But this semester won't be so bad. If only I could wake up. But in two of my classes, I know a bunch of people. I like this getting to know people in my major thing. I like having an actual major, instead of just being general studies. But there are so many creative writers here! Wow.

But last Spring semester (exactly a year ago), I had a class with this guy, Mike, from Connecticut. He always captured my attention because he was, among other things, from Connecticut. (I have a soft spot for the state.) And I was sitting at my desk for my creative non-fiction class, and I just happen to look up, and he's there. I think he nodded and might have said hi, but I don't remember. But he sat next to me. Of course, I was sitting in the back row and I think he prefers the back. But he definitely remembered me.

If it fucking kills me, I'm going to fucking talk to him. At least say fucking hello to the guy! But next class, I might not sit in the same spot. There are a lot of people I know in that class that I would like to sit next to. Maybe I'll drag them to my corner. I just want to sit next to him and them. Is that possible? We'll see! I sat between him and Jennifer today. I like Jennifer. I've had her in a class every semester I've been here. And she's nice. I want to sit next to Stephanie, too. I really like her. She's pretty cool. And Jasmine wanted me to sit next to her, too. So I think Stephanie and Jasmine should come sit next to me! But maybe that'll cause Mike to not sit next to me, because it's crowded? He seems like a bit of a loner. Either that or shy. I dunno.

Have I mentioned the professor? When he first walked in, I thought he was a student. Then he put his bag on the front table and greeted us, the five of us that were there early. I was like... Woah. I was smiling like an idiot, I had to take out my phone and pretend to be laughing at something there, haha. (This was before Mike.) He's very cute. Kinda attractive, but mostly cute. And Dutch! Haha. And so funny. But married... Haha. I can crush, can't I?

Wait a minute... Is Mike a creative writing major, too? Hmm... It's possible, I guess. I want to read some of his stuff. I guess he does more non-fiction than fiction. Still. I'd love to read anything...