02/27/08

So there's an intern at my office. He's a fun guy. Like him. And then I go and have this dream:
He saunters into my office wearing nothing but a pair of tight white slacks. His abs & chest are incredibly ripped, and he's glistening. His hair waves in an unfelt breeze, and there's a glint in his eyes. The dream shifts, and we're fucking in my office. The dream shifts again, and we're fucking in the hallway. Shifts: we're fucking in the corner of another office. Shifts: fucking in the front lobby. So on and so on and so on.

it wasn't one of those dreams where you could feel, smell, or experience. It was just like I was watching TV. BUT to go into the office and have to work with him all day? Now that was funny. I think I was smirking all day.

HA!

02/27/08

Someone was killing my friends. Not just murdering them; kidnapping them, starving them, raping them, and THEN killing them, leaving their bodies to rot. The police couldn't find him. We couldn't find him. So throughout the dream, I had to deal with friends disappearing.

One friend was killed without all of the above-mentioned fanfare. Nemo (yeah, sorry dude). There was a note stitched to his body, "This one was too thin to starve, so I didn't want him."

hehe. But he was still dead *pout*

Woke up never finding the guy.

02/23/08

So I'm in a talent show inside a very crowded venue, a kind of amphitheatre setting. People are singing, dancing, juggling; the usual stuff. And I await my turn to be on stage. My family is in the audience: husband, mom, dad, brothers, friends, colleagues. The lights come up, applause echoes across the stage, and the cute little girl who sang before me is ushered off stage by the MC. My turn.

I get up on stage. The lights focus in my face; I can't see the audience, but slight silhouettes. And I brandish a kitchen knife. Say a few words (that I can't recall) about how my religious beliefs dictate I do this to show you how much God loves you, and hold the knife to my throat. And slice. People cheer.

Now for some stupid reason, I can't continue the slice. So I get through a few inches, including my jugular, on the left side of my throat. Blood spews out of my throat. I drop the knife. And choke. Typical movie stuff. Gushing blood, choking, garbling noises. It was quite dirty and disgusting. But I don't die. And nobody offers any help. They just continue to clap and cheer.

After several minutes of nasty gushing, I'm ushered off stage to booming applause and my wound scabs over. I'm fine.

Talent show. Couldn't finish my talent.
HA!

No, I don't want to kill myself.
So there.