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  • Taylor Davidson took my right shoe and threw it. I barked at her to come back but she was gone. Another group leader (the waitress from Wonder Boys) grabbed her and brought her back. Her eyes were enormous and angry. She yelled at Taylor, then I did, then I saw a text scene of Taylor at home, being yelled at by her mother.

  • A day-care run from home and we were all doing a shitty job of it.

  • The snipers were there to identify our flaws. They shone lights back and forth, like miniature prison searchlights, sweeping into the windows of all houses. How was this old house in the middle of those blue skyscrapers? If the light hit me they would know all abut me. When the grass turned edible I tried some but wasn't too impressed. The others ate greedily. I knew something else was going on. Toilet in the sofa? but then it wasn't there. My grandmother was there, skulking, always around every corner, dusting angrily. Noah was older and in a suit. I started to know it was a dream but didn't let on. My father made her a decorative plaque with dried pansies, but it was a decoy.
  • all of the photos fell off my walls. i was paralysed.

    Background : I was at a party the previous night. I was attempting to be sane at this party - I was just going to rrrrrelax, rather than do my standard 'must... be... witty... and... charming!' act. The result was outwardly the same; I hardly spoke unless spoken to (usually caused by brain deadlock, as I sweat to come up with something funny to say; that night, I just made myself accept that I had nothing to say). I left the party, drove to a Wal-Mart parking lot, and bedded down in my car.

    I had a tumor. Left frontal lobe, totally inoperable. Some sort of blood vessel ran right through the center of the growth. I was going around, crying, saying goodbye to friends, wondering why I had wasted so much time not talking.

    I woke up with the sun glaring down at me. My head hurt like hell (on the left side, where a sinus felt like it nearly exploded on a flight the previous day). I went and hung out with some friends. I mostly stayed quiet - nothing to say, wasn't gonna force the issue.

    I have no idea if I'm doing the right thing here. I feel like that if I follow the edict of the dream and spend time trying to talk, I'll fall into the same old stressed-out misery that I've been in. And if I don't do what the dream tells me, I'll be denying my fate, kinda like Oedipus (thanks for the reference there, ailie). Ahwell.

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