Hmph.

"You can tell me a lot of things but if I don't see it, how would I know it's true?"

burning bridges.

Last night I had a dream that the Narrows bridge was burning down and I was somehow responsible. In my dream, the bridge was oddly located in downtown Tacoma where the closed down 11th street bridge is. I woke up at 2:00 pm curled up in a tiny ball laying on top of three cell phones and my pants were off. I don't know. Last night was... an adventure. A personal one. It wasn't a crazy night full of crazy events but I did what I wanted and didn't care about how it made anyone but me feel. Never held back. I haven't done that in a long time. I am constantly living for the satisfaction of others around me but that is going to change. I will no longer be a doormat. Shout out to Josh Walker.

call me corrupt-

- but I think the middle of the cinnamon roll is the worst part.

so i've been having these dreams

I shoot up into a sitting position; 0 to 60 in 2.5, straight out of sleep. It's 4:14 am, I'm so thirsty it's painful and I'm sweating like a whore in church. I feel misplaced and disillusioned but subconsciously I know exactly where I am and exactly what's happening, because it's turning into a pattern. In fact, I had awoken in a similar fashion twice that night already. What I would give to stay asleep, what I would give not to dream so intensly. Had it always been like this I wouldn't know what peaceful slumber feels like, but since I do, this is torture. Last night I had many dreams of which I can remember few details like my dad buying me a Honda that most definitely does not exsist and my best friend, Brooke, being the main character of my third dream... there was also a cake. The first dream I woke up from though, the one with the Honda, I remember well. My dad came home with this machine that looked like it came from some psychedellic version of Need for Speed, and said I could drive it to school. I decided that I would walk "to school" and come back for the car later in order to save gas. This would never be the case for one reason.... I live 24.1 miles from my school. However, in my dream I wasn't really going to school at all. I had plannned on skipping all day with some friends from Puyallup and assumed that one of them would drive me back to my house to get the car later. This was my first mistake, as it would have been in real life because the person I was depending on was the last person I would ever depend on for a favor. So, as it would be, I did not have a ride back to my house to get my car. The sky became dark and I found myself in a huge grass feild with a winding road hidden by a treeline, visible in the distance. I was not scared or alone, I was just walking, deciding what party I would go to. My friend and I reached the road and decided we would go to the rager at the bottom of the first dimly lit driveway that apparently led to the home of someone we knew. Just as we were at the top of the steep driveway, another friend of mine (one who I would never expect to incoorporate in my thoughts while dreaming about parties) ran up to us, stumbling over her feet and her words and said "Come help us... the river, we need to build a dam." She handed us these large rocks that looked as if the were rotted and infested with disease. I did not grab mine because it looked so disgusting. We walked towards the river and there were people everywhere, throwing their rocks into a pile in the river. Everyone looked like androids, moving slowly and groggy and it wasn't until I saw the face of one of them that I realized I was surrounded by zombies. The rocks from the river were turning everyone into zombies, even my friends. When they all realized that I wasn't a zombie, they turned and all at once, began coming at me. I ran as fast as I could, meeting up with a friend along the way who apparently wasn't a zombie either. We reached an abandoned darn in which there were tall wire fences. My extremely attractive, male friend whom I have had a crush on for years and will be called Tom; suggested that we climb to the top of the fence, stand on the thin platform and kick the fence down. The climbing happened quickly and I remember an image of the fence falling. Once we were on the small platform I began to cry and Tom held me. He put his forehead against mine and let me sob, telling me it would be okay and then he kissed me. It was a very awkward, very unsatisfying kiss. Much less than I would have expected. He pulled away and made a groan noise like he regretted doing that and I came in closer and said "No, it can be better." I kissed him with everything I had and that motherfucker didn't even close his eyes! He just pulled his head away and said "No, it's not... eh". I was furiuos and heartbroken... mostly furious. That's when I woke up.

Running Away.

Last night was a tearful, putrid evening. I spent the whole day cleaning a mess that was not mine, in preperation for the return of my step mother and step sister. Around 9 o'clock I got in an argument with my dad via cell phone. After being told flat out that I am "not moving out" (a pending topic we had yet to discuss) and blown off because he was "getting a text message" (wtffff!?), I decided that I was tired of being completely ignored and insufficiantly parented by that man and his wife. I broke down into tears, fell to the kitchen floor, slammed all the cupboards as hard as I could and screamed at the top of my damaged lungs. This almost psychotic episode lasted for about five minutes when I got up, grabbed my phone off the counter, walked outside, called my mama and told her I needed to leave and she agreed that I need to do what's best for me. I scurried to throw all of my clothes in white trash bags and load them into my car. Hanz, my guitar came with and my stuffed animal Fluffy the St. Bernard that i've had since age two followed. I wrote my dad a brief letter explaining why all my shit is no longer in my room and then I left. I'd call it moving out rather than running away but "Running Away." seemed like a better title and in my dad's eyes that's exactly what I'm doing. The half hour drive to my mother's was a dificult one with tears streaming down my face, making phonecalls to those I felt I needed to speak to. I discovered that there really are good people in the world. Good friends, and good men. Well, I can't speak for the rest of the world but there is at least one good man. Isaac, thank you. I ended my night on a sophisticated note; watching an Andrea Bocelli concert on PBS, eating Starbucks Java Chip ice cream which does not infact taste like a Java Chip Frappucino but is till quite enjoyable. Here comes life ladies and gentlemen.

Thinking straight.

My mind works in sections. One at a time. It's almost impossible to stay on my level. Breakkk break flow.

Dexter's Laboratory

My knees burn when my brother talks. He's loud and does this annoying, half inhale/half laugh thing in the middle of phrases, hoping to add comedic affect to things that aren't funny in the first place. He's constantly tapping and banging on everything around him so my father finally purchased him a drum kit. Now he's tapping and banging louder. Speaking of tapping and banging. You know the sound that is created when your spoon scrapes against your bowl? It clings and then drags out for a little bit. Well somehow, ever since I can remember him feeding himself, my brother clings his spoon or fork a ridiculous ammount of times per meal. He is just a disgusting human being.