i hate it when i dream. wait, let me rephrase that....what i mean is, i hate it when i wake up from a dream. because the moment i open my eyes, the dream is gone. poof! just like that. i mean, hey, i wanna know what i've dreamt about, right? grr...take today, for example. i had a really looong dream. (i knew this because i just know okay?)
anyways, so there, i was having this dream and then my dad woke me up and kablam! it's liek my dreams are on a bubble and once i gain my conscious self, the bubble's pricked and i lose whatever it is my subconscious mind is trying to tell me. sigh.
it doesn't mean that because i want to know what my dreams are, i'm this totally superstitious girl who'd rather interpret her dreams than go on and live reality.
but who defines 'reality' anyway? who says reality is made up of all things concrete? 'shit-boring nonchalant life,' more like.
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I scribble a lot in reverse and play with words so much I think they have temporarily abandoned me like a lover scorned.