A plot of land

After my anXXXiety (<-sexy!) fit yesterday, I had a well rested night last night. OR SO I THOUGHT. I found my sleep briefly disturbed by a dream that I haven't had in a while.

I found myself back in the neighborhood I grew up in, but everything was slightly twisted sideways/inside out. It was like when you revisit a place that you knew really well but like half the buildings had been taken down and new ones had been erected (<-heh) that didn't seem to quite belong.

I was trying to figure out what exactly had happened to my picturesque nightmare of a home town, when I was being chased. Like prior times I've had this dreams I can never see the face of my pursuer. There is always a shadow or a fog that seems to cover his face. It's really fucking scary. So there I was, dream me running for my life, again.

When I reached that moment of dream realization (dreamization?) where I'm like oh a'duh you dreamin' stupid. Unlike the cool cool coolio dream manipulating things that you can do, like fly n' things, I couldn't do any of that shit.
All I could do is wonder why I couldn't wake myself up. I did manage to wake up once I was safely sheltered in my dream best friends dream house not to be confused with the horror show that is Barbies Dreamhouse of broken dreams and bloody corpses. I climbed through my dream friends attic window, which he doesn't have in real life, and I was safe.

Well safe for the moment since I knew that he would find me. It's been, what? Like 3-4 years since I've had this dream, so maybe he'll find me again, like nightmares on phlegmstreet, spo0o0o0ky! So I woke up pissed because I wasn't able to, you know kick some dream ass.

And that was that. And this is this:

M – This. This is why not no one likes you. I don’t like you, L can’t stand you, G only tolerates you because he’s known you the longest. It’s because you are an asshole. Not one of those rakish assholes, nope. Just an asshole.

C – Because I don’t spout platitudes? Because I know that things might not end up O.K. and choose not to delude myself into thinking that they will?

M – You think that you’re doing everyone such a great service.

C – Aren’t I?

M – You have no filter, you have no regard for anyone’s feelings, anyone's.

G has been sitting, drinking his beer. Continues to watch.

M – You just say thing that are incredibly…ugh…stupid-

C – Why? Why is it stupid? I don’t like to sugar coat things because what’s the point? Isn’t the truth what everyone wants to hear? No. Obviously, not. People want to feel special, unique, like they can conquer anything. Not true. The truth isn’t beautiful; it’s dirty and hard and will sit on your chest torturing you. Immovable.

M – Listen Cassandra, you aren’t the harbinger of truth. You are just a guy that says things to bring attention to himself because he thinks his pop psychology will somehow validate his awfulness.