I had a dream within a dream, of a dark castle with pets, a giant dog in the outer dream embracing me with its limbs, affectionately, speaking to me through my mind. Color is a phenomenon that is hard to explain in dreams, where in real life light enters through the eye and into the optic center, in dreams it is directly generated by the mind. Thus, the dog was “brown” as far as real colors can describe dream colors, but more like a brown you see in black and white films, or grayscale photographs–a brown you know is brown but don’t see as brown as vividly as you’d really want. I woke up and whispered into blanket, “Please take me back to the dark castle.” The dog in the outer dream and I spoke of the inner dream, he asked if I dreamt of a dark castle and I said Yes, I had.
Mother and I bought Chipotle burritos for dinner but she also made borscht for the family and some meat dish for herself.
Her alarm clock is broken and so she is late for work tonight. She works much harder than me. I feel like a bad person because of this. She’s suffered most of her life I guess would be one way to put it. It’s hard to understand being better off than someone who wants that for you and not being able to give anything in return other than your love. What is that even. What is love. Baby don’t hurt me, no more.
This is ridiculous.
Then there was a woman doing gymnastic bowling. It was a rectangle, pins at each corner, and she would bowl, but then do a gymnastic flip through the air above each pins to knock over–wait, were there pins above the pins? I don’t know now. What you perceive is not in question, when it is not in question, perhaps it is really different than what you thought after all.
I just don’t want my mom to be fired when she is so close to pension retirement money.
Well. There would be a fight back and forth, that’s for sure. We would have to get a lawyer. THAT would be a waste of money.
Watching just_lina play piano on Twitch. Mmm. Soothing. My Russian fellows. I don’t have an accent, I’ve been in the states since I was young.
Why can’t I just sleep and be wrapped up in dreams my whole life. I guess this is every heroin addict’s dream. I wonder if it was a contributing factor to my opioid problem. The romanticism of being lost in life.
I guess that’s it. I’m sorry I don’t have more. Life is a maze, isn’t it.