When I wake up in the morning, I always put on pearls before I tumblr.
I have a love affair with this day. Here is how I am spending it.
“Think Less but see it grow.
Like a riot, like a riot, OH!
Not easily offended.
Know how to let it go.
From a mess to the masses.”
The first time I held Serena.
What I dream about is always strange.
I remember this one dream I had about Jackie, after her and I got into this huge fight and we broke up for a little bit. I would dream about me going to her and saying how sorry I was and how much I missed her. By the end of the dream, we were friends again and everything was okay. I remember those dreams would make me cry because I missed her so much.
I also had this dream, once when Serena was just a few weeks old. She was napping in the swing while I slept on the couch, and I couldn’t move or speak, but I was desperately trying to move, to get to her because I could hear foot steps and hear someone or something calling her name and breathing heavily. It freaked me out, and I’ve started having more and more dreams that stick with me.
A few nights ago, I had this dream. And I repeated it again last night.
It starts out simply enough. A woman, blond and a few years older than me, and a man who is bald, and who I picture as Haymitch from the Hunger Games, are having a picnic with me. We are all sitting and laughing together when the female takes a rock and tosses it at a wasps nest. The nest falls and I get stung over and over, hundreds of times. When the wasps clear, I am laying curled up in a ball in the middle of the field, both the people I was with didn’t get stung at all. I am laying there as they look over me.
I am dying, I feel it. I know that the second I pass out, I am gone. I fight the blackness as I hear both of the people above me telling me how relaxing it is to sleep. How all of the pain will go away. I tell them to leave me the fuck alone, and I start pulling myself over the ground, trying to get home so I can get help.
It takes me a long time to drag myself through the field. I am sobbing from the pain of all the stings, and I can feel each blade of grass on my skin like a dagger cutting into me.
Once I make it home, my Dad just looks at me and starts to cry, trying to give me water to drink, but I can’t keep it down. In the end, I just lay in my back yard as it starts to rain, the cool water makes me feel a little better.
I take my cell phone and I call my friend to tell him that I love him and my Daughter, and that I will miss them both. And just as I hang up, I pass out and I wake up in real life.
I have had that dream TWICE now. And it is fucked up..
I wish I could tell you this…
The Singing Taco.
With iCatDuck and Quequechosezarbi.
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