Sorry I’ve been gone. I got my laptop taken away, but I’m back now (at least for the moment).

Well, I spent Friday night with Tadpole at a football game.

He’s like a super ninja (brown belt in Tae Kwan Do or something) so I kept wanting to test his capabilities, or mine, a little of both. So I kept insisting he do some awesome little ninja move on me, but he refused, saying it was “against his morals” or whatever. So I harassed him all night. Sometimes he’d give in and just do something dumb, that hurt for a second (like cracking my wrist, or finger or shoulder) and I just wanted to see how much I could take, but I could tell he wasn’t trying very hard which just got me more and more pissed.

And he just kept asking me if I was one of those creepy people that liked pain. And I told him I wasn’t, and tried to explain it. That I just like to push myself to the limits to see how strong I am or how much I can take.

But he didn’t get it.

And then he asked me if I was depressed and about suicide and all that kinda stuff and if he should be worried about me. It was weird, because not a whole lot of people worry about me, and it was kind of weird that he saw through me a little. And it was a little scary, because, a part of me could tell he knew. But then most of me is like, well if he knew how fragile I was, he wouldn’t be so insensitive, unless he just doesn’t care at all, because that could be a possibility.

And I put it briefly: “I’m happy about 95% of the time. And you’ve never really seen me really depressed. Trust me, you’ll know when you see it. I think committing suicide is for cowards, and that living is the greatest punishment.”

At this point, he sort of turns away from me and looks at the smoke that’s trailing through the air in the bright stadium light. I couldn’t tell if he was thinking about what I’d said, or if he just didn’t feel like talking about it. Then he told me to look at the moon, and we both just sat there staring at it.

I didn’t tell him this, but I was giving him a load of crap. The honest truth is, I’m usually more sad than happy. Or, as I’ve said before, maybe not sad, but thoughtful, almost to the point of mental instability, because I can see the pathetic state our society is in, and the horrible place I’ll be soon. Or because I can see things other people can see. I’m particularly good with seeing the bad intention in people, and I have no trouble telling when someone’s being fake, or lying, or when they’re secretly judging me. If I had to put it to a percentage, I’d say I’m truly happy about 10% of the time; but I’m good at covering it up so most people can’t tell. And as I wrote in my diary, I haven’t been honestly, a long-term sort of happy in about more than a year now. Maybe the temporary kind of happy, the kind that lasts like an hour, or just pure content, but I’ve really had nothing to be happy about in a while. And I guess that’s just setting me up for something good. Because the sun always looks brighter after a long night. Right? I didn’t tell Tadpole that I think about suicide a lot, but mostly about what would happen, because I contemplate the possibilities too much. About how certain people would react, how it’d be a big deal, for a moment, before people would move on. Because I doubt there’s someone who cares about me so much that they would be hung up about my death their whole life.

Even if you really love someone, eventually you’ll get over it.

I think we underestimate the potential in people’s ability to deal with grief.

And even so, I could tell Tadpole really doesn’t get me. Maybe not yet. Maybe I should just give him more time, because he’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a while and I’d hate to lose another person just because they don’t understand how I work. Which is a pretty challenging feat all on it’s own. But even so, sometimes Tadpole just makes me feel like crap, which isn’t good. I bet he doesn’t even mean it, but like I said, I don’t really think he understands how sensitive I am. Most people don’t, because I act all tough like I can handle anything, and I pretend not to ever let anything get to me.

And it’s funny, the difference between the person I pretend to be and the person I actually am. I always play myself up to be this head-strong, stubborn, nothing-gets-to-her sort of girl, who doesn’t give a crap about anything, who’s spontaneous and fun loving and is always happy and smiling, who’s comical and loud and makes other people laugh.

When really, I think I worry too much, and I over-analyze people’s intentions. Every little word, every little touch, it all means something to me. I’ve got a good perception about what people think about other people; which is fun to play around with, but scary at the same time, because I can tell when people hate me and are still acting like my friend. In actuality, I care a great deal about what other people think about me, and I need a lot of stability from my friends since I don’t have much at home. I don’t trust anyone enough to tell them what I’m thinking, so if people really want to get in my head, they should realize the kind of stories I write are a pretty good look into my head. After all, everything I write comes directly from my fears, and desires, and just my life experiences in general. But no one cares enough about me to look into these sort of these things, because I think if they delved deeper into my persona, they’d be a little startled, and a little surprised by the person they would find.

Which is funny, I wonder how many people out there are like me, when they’re really dieing inside, but they’re afraid of what people think of them, so they pretend to be someone else. It’s subconscious for me. And it gives literal meaning to the term “second nature”. I bet there’s not a whole lot of people like that, or, at least not to the extremity I believe I possess. But I’m sure they’re out there.

It’s strange.

Tadpole’s pretty quiet about these sort of things, I wonder if he’s as simple as he plays himself up to be. I can tell he thinks about things though, because I’ve seen him in a philosophical state once or twice before, and I can tell he’s pretty smart, even though he usually denies it.

What if I’m the one who should be worrying about him?

And then two more people come to my mind.

My friend, whom I walk home with everyday, is generally very thoughtful, and I can tell he’s a genius, really, he is. Sometimes he’ll let me in on his small, yet very large, life theories, and they always fascinate me. And he likes being alone, and I wonder, what is he thinking?

Is he sad too?

There’s also my friend who I always think is so happy. But I pay attention to the things she says. I pay very careful attention to her dreams, and thoughts and the way she acts, and I fear there is something deeper to her that she hasn’t let anyone in on yet.

But, I can see it in her.

Like I’ve said, I’m very good at these sort of things.

And I wonder,

Is anyone thinking the same thing about me?

Guessing that, perhaps, there is something deeper to me too? I’m curious if Tadpole wonders these sort of things. He was very close Friday, but he backed away right before he broke through.

Does he know better?

Or not know enough to know better yet?

I feel pretty dissapointed in myself tonight. And I hate myself for complaining about it, but I need to write it down somewhere before I forget what I’m feeling. That boy I talked about in below post? We’ve been talking a bit on AIM, but mostly awkward one-liners like Hey, How are you? Or something along those lines. And I was thinking, wow, he’s really trying hard, maybe soemthing good will work out for me?

But evident by his blog (hmm) it’s not like that. I don’t want to go into it. It’s nothing that cut my heart open and tore out my soul nothing as dramatic. Besides, I’ve never even met this kid.

But it got me thinking, maybe too much. I sort of hate it when I get my hopes up like this. And I was thinking about all the times I’ve been let down by people whom I figured to be important. Everyone’s let me down at least once, sometimes unintentionally, and other times completely on purpose. Why do I even trust people anymore? There’s obviously no point in it.

And somehow he stumbled upon my last blog post, thanks a lot Deven. And I really hope he won’t end up reading this one. This is my quiet place. The only quiet place, the only sanctuary I can find in this crazy, not-so-real world.

And I hate that I got so excited for yet another thing that did not work out for me.

And for some reason he still wants to hang out with me. I hope he’s not sympathizing for me. Right now, I don’t even want to leave the house. It’s like when everyone’s looking you up and down like they know something. And you don’t even know what it is? I want to forget about him, bury it. I can’t even be myself around him because I’m so nervous. Why am I so nervous? For what? There’s  nothing to be nervous for. I’m just like him in that way. We’re both human beings. We both tell our mom and dad good night and roll around in bed a while before falling asleep. Dreaming maybe? It seems impossible, but we’re all connected in that way.

We’re all alike.

But we’re all different.

I just really hate that I thought, even after I was so blatantly ignored by Pumpkin I could find someone special in a day?

Sure.

Because that always happens for me.

I was being fesecious if you couldn’t tell.

I don’t want to talk anymore, because I’m getting more and more mad as I write and I don’t want to boil over.

Boil over,

I haven’t done that in a while. But I’m so mad at myself right now. So dissappointed that I could be so stupid.

And I hate it even more that I’m complaining! I want to be the one who I pretend to be. Who’s always happy, and makes people smile. Because isn’t that my purpose? To make people happy? I’m less sure every day. I seem to be doing it a lot less lately. I seem to just give them more problems.

And maybe that’s why I don’t believe in anything anymore?

Because I’m afraid I’ll get hurt again?

My stupid ego. I hate it sometimes.

I want to start over so badly. Move somewhere and change my name where no one knows me and I can be someone new? How nice that would be. And I don’t even mind calling myself a coward. Because I’m running away, I tend to do that when my problems become to intricate to figure out. Run away from the problem. Forget about it. Bury it.

And I’m slowly graduating to boiling point. So I need to leave and take a breather before I do something dumb.

Remember a while ago when I had a dream about the number 143?

Well, this mroning when I was doing my laundrey, I foundsome money in one of my pants pockets. 1 dollar and 43 cents. It freaked me out. I don’t believe in coincedences anymore.

So I got curious. I figured out 2 possibilities. Apparently, 143 is 90’s pager talk for “I love you” and it’s also an acronym for pi (3.14). But I feel like there’s something more to it.

First the dream, and the scream, and the money in my pocket. And it just seems like wherver I go it’s 143. The other night it was the winning Cash 3! It’s freaking me out. 143. It seems so simple. But I can’t figure out its relevance. What is my subconscious trying to tell me? What is someone trying to tell me?

It could be a year (2143). It could be a Street Number (143). It might be a time (1:43).

But then again… It might be nothing!!

It’s driving me crazy. I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to figure out. Whether if it’s for some kind of self-improvment, or just a number that’s going to hold some relevance in my life. Maybe it’s the time the world will end. There are so many possibilities.

My 18th birthday is supposed to be the end of the world (12-20-2012). And, I just get an awful feeling around this number (143).

!! It freaks me out just looking at it! It’s so eerie!

Any input out there? Should I pursue it? Or am I crazy?

*yawn* I promised myself I’d blog more and I plan to do exactly that. Hmm, well I got a haircut. It’s attractiveness is equal to my old haircut, but in this heat, 4+ inches of hair makes all the difference. It’s about half way down my neck in the back and it gradually gets longer to about an inch passed my shoulder. But my hair is so damn flippy that it takes away about 2 inches of the actual length. –> http://choooberry.deviantart.com/art/gah-94137815

besides which my life has been deathly uneventful. school starts in about 2 weeks and im having post-year anxieties. Most of my dreams have been about failing my classes, losing scholarships, missing buses. I’ve become such a little worry wart, but all is well. All I need to remember is that if I have any dream of getting into college, I better ace all my classes this year (these ones are my first AP classes, thus they will tend to be a little more important), make enough money yearly for my college savings account, and get plenty of volunteer hours so im eligible for scholarships and state grants. it shouldn’t be too difficult but my panic disorder little mind is just a little, freaky at the moment. :]

 My Grade 8 Goals:

1. Be nice to everyone, and be as righteous (spelling?? haha) as ever.

2. Keep good grades

3. Be more active as a student

4. Quit complaining and try my darndest to be the best person I can

5. Get a job.

when i have nothing overly interesting to write about, i write about my dreams. this post is no different. i haven’t blogged in a while, and ive had some pretty incredible dreams since when…

a while ago: I was at a McDonalds with my mom and dad and it was weird, because nearly EVERYONE from school was there. The three i really remember though were Him (remember my grade 7 crush from way back when?) Nick E. (aww) and Matt ( a kid from my 4th hour). Me and Nick (not to be confused with nick patterson) always used to act like we hated eachother, but i dont think we honestly did. he was a funny, sweet guy, and he became a pretty good friend. in my dream, he came up to me, talked for a little and then hugged me. then matt came up to me and said my mom was aying horrible things about everyone.

a few days ago: I was in the cafeteria, and i looed across the table to see crystal. i waved. she was sitting with this girl Becca who used to be in my lunch. she came up and started talking to me. “Hey, i read your profile,” then, next thing i knew, we were acting like best friends. we were running around and i said: “Becca, you’re so fun to be around, youre so happy and cheerful.” she replied: “and what you’re depressed?” “No, i think im pretty normal,” then i have to blow my nose, so i go into the bathroom, after i throw the tissue away, i realize there is a jar of peanut butter in my hand. i suddenly realize i cannot let it drop no matter what. suddenly, deven and a bunch of other people, come out of the office in a cha-cha line. me and becca join the cha-cha line. someone bumps into me and the PB jar goes flying. I dont see where it lands and suddenly i dont care. then me and deven begin to open this door that says “Oregon” on it with a little doplphin. then i wake up. :p

yesterday: i was in the mall when i realized i was being chased by three people. when i ran out of a store, i saw ari, lauren and butter all hanging out. i told them i was being chased but butter and lauren went on talking like it didnt matter. ari’s eyes opened up really big and when i turned a corner,  i realized he was following me, like he was looking out for me.

last night: i was in the mall with courtney and we were eating cookies when i heard someone talking about me. it was this girl who goes to my school. some of the people she was talking to stood up for me, others didnt care.

analyzation anyone??

Well, it hasn’t been a great couple days for me. I’ve been feeling kind of down in the dumps, and I’m bored as hell. Despite this, my dreams have been as vivid as ever.

Last night, I had a dream that I was in this strange wold with a few of my friends (Butter is the only one I really remember though) and me and Butter were running around like crazy trying to keep the town at peace. There was this huge skating rink (random) in the center of the town. Then me and Butter went out passed this gate-ish thing, and the grass was about up to our waist. I saw this car and then I noticed my parents were sitting inside. I talked to them for a second and they began rambling on and on about Pumpkin. Then I ran away. And then I woke up.

I guess I haven’t really given specific reasons why I feel like crap so here goes.

I found out that Pumpkin (who I’ve liked for almost a year) had/has (i don’t know) a crush on one of my best friends. So as you can see that kind of put a damper on my day. And I haven’t talked to Butter in a while, I feel like I’m annoying him. Lately, I feel somewhat unlovable. Like no one will ever like me no matter how hard I try (friends and guys both). I haven’t talked to any of my friends (excluding Courtney) in ages, no one’s even picked up the phone to call me. And when I IM them it seems like they really don’t want to talk to me.

Well, I’m remodeling my room. Today I started painting. 3 of my walls are going to be an orange-based white, and one a BAM orange-brown. The two highlight colors are red nd light green. I like painting. I turn on some music and I think, and it’s almost rhythmic. With my arm going up and down in time with the beat of the song I’m listening to. It’s a nice time to think, and contemplate about what I normally don’t get the time to wonder about. It’s a breath of fresh air from real-life. And even if it’s only for a couple hours, I feel at ease an refreshed.

The past few nights have been torture. Last Thursday, I had a dream that I got raped while I was in a hotel, where a man forced me into the bed in his room. I talked to Courtney about it, and she told me I was over paranoid and that I needed to relax, so I did just that. But Tuesday, I had another dream that someone was following me. On Wednesday, I had another dream that someone came into my house when no one was home. Last night was the worst. I had a dream that I was getting dressed, and there was someone in my closet, he jumped out at me and pinned me to the floor. I woke up hyperventilating around 1 in the morning. I was so relieved when I realized it was just a dream. I got up, checked my closet and shut the door, I went to the Living Room to make sure my dad was still asleep on the couch, he was so I ran back into my room and buried myself in my sheets. I finally fell back asleep at about 3 in the morning to have the same dream greet me. Except this time, my dad walked in in the middle of it, but the man who was pinning me down said: ‘There’s nothing you can do to help her’ and my dad left the room and closed the door and I started screaming. I woke up at 6 or so, and checked the closet and couch again, then went back to my bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. At 6:30 I turned on the TV and at about 7 my dad woke up (I was so relieved the night was over). I’m afraid to go to sleep at night, and I’m even worse during the day. I constantly look behind me, I stay close to my dad in public places, and I don’t leave the house unless I have to. I start to hyperventilate whenever someone accidentally bumps into me or when my dad gets out of eye vision. I usually don’t take dreams so seriously, but I have a really bad feeling about this. It’s like a premonition, and I’m scared to death. It doesn’t help that there have been 2 rapes on my street in the last year. And that guy, Jeremy creeps me out. It’s a 20-something year old guy that used to follow me home from the bus stop. Everyday, after school he’d follow just behind or just in front of me and Sebastian. Even Sebastian admitted it was weird how he knew everything I wore everyday. When he asked me how old I was, I actually said: ‘I don’t know’ Then I pretended someone was calling me so I took my cell out and talked to my imaginary friend, even though my phone was dead. I hated that Sebastian couldn’t walk home with me (he lives on the street in front of me). After about a month, he went away. I was so relieved. But the other day, when I was taking my dog for a walk, I saw him. I quickly turned the corner and acted like I was really busy. When I came around the other side of the street, he was sitting on the side of the road watching me! It was so scary, I was grateful I had my dog with me. It’s even worse that he knows where I live. It freaks me out.

I’m probably overreacting, but this is scaring me to death. I have the absolute worst feeling about it. If I have to stay home alone, I make sure all the doors and windows are locked, and then I sit in my room with the phone.

Every noise I hear, it’s killing me. I know I can’t do anything about it. I can’t even stand getting dressed anymore, I can’t stand looking at my body anymore, I feel like it’s already sinned.

I’m the kind of person who once they get their mind set on something, worries a lot. I know there’s like a 99% chance nothing will happen, but I just want the assurance.

Any advice out there? I’m scaring myself to the grave.

I had an interesting dream last night (as always, ^-^) Tyler had moved to my neighborhood, 143rd Street (I’m not sure if that actually exists, but I’m going to check it out, maybe I’m supposed to find something there) and I was with Crystal and we were riding our bikes around the hood and I said Tyler’s name, and then someone started screaming, so we ran. When I got back to my house, it was a huge mansion. Like /huge/ it looked like a hotel. Crystal said she had to go home, and then Tyler, Butter and Pumpkin appeared. I was about to say something to Pumpkin (can’t exactly remember what, but it was pretty important) than Butter grabbed my arm and pulled me up this huge staircase. At the top, there was this giant pool, and we jumped in. Then some pretty lady in a suit started yelling at us. Telling me I wasn’t within my rights to do such things. I told her it was my house, and she grabbed Butter and told me to get out, so I went back down the staircase. Then Pumpkin was standing there and he told me Butter was dead. I was really confused, so I grabbed Pumpkin’s hand and we ran up the stairs, and it was like an empty apartment building where the pool had just been a few seconds ago. When I went to go back down the stairs with Pumpkin, there was a closed door, and when I opened it, there was like a town on fire. I closed the door and turned to Pumpkin and Butter was standing next to him. Then I was in my old science teacher (Mrs. Koerner)’s room. I was sitting next to Lauren F. (a girl at my school) and Pumpkin walked in the classroom, and the front of his hair was dyed blond. (It was quite random) I turned to say something to Lauren, but where she had just been sitting was Butter. “What’s going on?” he asked me. Pumpkin sat next to us, so Butter was on one side and Pumpkin was on the other. I put my head down on the desk and woke up.

Anyone care to evaluate? I looked some things up in my dream books. According to numerology the number 8 (1+4+3) means transformation. A person born under the number 8 is generally quiet, reserved and patient. Someone who is very untrusting, but operates like a broken machine under a cool exterior. I used to be like this, but I told myself to change a while ago. Sometimes I still feel like this. Does this number mean that I am going to transform /back/ into this person? Or that I am going to veer very far away from it?

Some of the elements I looked up included the stairs. Afterall, I was going up and down the stairs numerous times, and I figured this could represent something.  It turns out, a staircase represents transformation or change (whoa,) Going up stairs represents a higher level of understanding. Going down stairs represents repressed thoughts or to the setbacks I will experience soon in life. So going continuouslly up and down stairs, must mean that I am trying to /transform/ into someone that can /successfully understand/ the /setbacks I am going to face soon/.  That’s my take on it. I also wanted to analyze what significance Butter and Pumpkin had in my dream. Pumpkin is obviously someone I am in love with. My dream dicitonary says: “To dream of love of being in love, suggests intense feelings carried over from a waking relationship.” Butter is someone I am not sure whether I like or not. Could the significance of these two be that I am having trouble choosing one over the other? I was also fascinated by the flames and the empty apartment. “In particular, if the fire is under control or contained in one area, it is a metaphor of your own internal fire and inner transformation. It also represents your drive and motivation.” “To dream of a shabby and dark apartment, indicates misfortune and possible loss of a lover or money.” A door means I am entering a new stage in my life. The hotel-looking mansion means: “Signifies a new state of mind, or shift in personality.” Butter taking my left arm (I remember) represents my “need to nurture him”. Pumpkin taking my right hand represents “the spiritual connection I feel to him” Being in the classroom means I may “be learning a life lesson”.

Taking all this into consideration, I’d say my dream is all about myself changing, and leanring and important life lesson.

My subconscious is trying to tell me to be with Pumpkin for I feel a spiritual connection to him, and that the reason I like Butter is because I feel like I need to protect him.

Would anyone else care to evaluate?

another weird dream. i actually really like the concept and i think i may write a bok out of it (too late, im already on chapter 4)

So it started off that I was with this weird family, and then I commit suicide by jumping off a cliff outside our house. The valley is deep and I fall for hours, a bright light fills up the sky. Someone catches me. It’s Michael, a guy I haven’t seen for months (not Jessica’s Michael, a different Michael I met over the summer) and we go back to the other side of the valley that no one has ever discovered. Mattio (Michael’s twin brother) was there and so were a bunch of other people I couldn’t put a name to. I stayed with them for a few months. They kept calling me the star. I found out the light that had litten up the sky was actually an eat-and-go sign above a gas station. Michael went in to get us some lunch and then I jumped over the cliff again. The whole ground lit up white like a giant star, and it caught me (like one of those anti-gravity bubbles) then it dissappeared and I stood up. The canyon was dark again. I saw a swing, so I went over and started swinging. I was sitting there swinging for days, weeks maybe. All I could see was the days passing by. Then somehow I was on the other side again. Mattio immeadiately hugged me and yelled out my name. But Michael seemed mad. “That was immature and child-like of you,” is what I really remember him saying well. “You can be a spoiled brat, Chloe’, you know that? Do you ever try to think about anyone but yourself?” I was so heartbroken. I saw he was holding some sort of clipboard, so I took it and saw it was a military sign-up sheet, so I ran to this broken down barn that is actually at my bus stop and started fighting off “The Shadows” And then Michael came to help me. Then he got mad saying i had put myself in danger and all that. And I started crying, and then my alarm went off and I woke up.

aw, i liked that dream. If I could go back, I would.

So then that day, I decided to call Michael. I talked to him for a few minutes and then he had to go. He wasn’t the sweet funny Michael I remembered. It kind of hurt me that he had changed so much. He was nothing like my dream-Michael, no where near as kind or heroic, but I guess everyone changes.

I guess there are just some people I wish would never grow older. Like Michael for example. Is that unfair of me? Or selfish? Like my dream-Michael told me? Am I being immature and childlike? If it was up to me, I would never want him to get any older. I care very little of my own age, I could grow old and wither up and die, but when i think about Michael turning 15, he seems so distant… I wish he could be 14 forever. Even if I’m some old lady in a rocking chair I’d like to have the satisfaction to know that at least my one pleasent childhood memory had remained unchanged. I want him to be trapped inside a photograph, mine to look at and remember whenever I wanted to (always).

Okay, that is pretty selfish of me, but whenever I think of him or some other people too, getting odler, it hollows out some mysterious part of me and I feel strangely empty. Like as they change and grow, they’re taking away the memories they left me.

It hurts.

I wish I could stop time. Forever. I could see Josh and Michael again and all the people I did care about, that disappeared with time. Maybe I am scared of getting older, of change. I want to stay where I am forever. So what if I’m not the most popular girl in school, or I’m still not old enough to do a lot of things. I don’t care, I’ve already missed out on so much because I thought I had all the time in the world.

And apprently,

I have a lot less than I thought.

The past few days (week, *cough**cough*) have been strangely uneventful.

I went to a craft fair with my mom on Saturday. Lauren was going to come with us but her aunt was taking her to get her nails done or something…which I can’t really protest. I would’ve rather got my nails done then walk up and down those crowded old lady isles that reek of corn cakes, Lady Speed Stick, and that weird smell of wet wood. The one thing I really liked I did not end up getting.

It was this long, driftwood-colored vanity mirror. The mirror wasn’t all that, it was kind of cloudy and old, but it made it so much more alluring to me. So old, and antique-like. I wanted to picture myself in it, but for some reason, I could not see my reflection.

Well, I mean I saw a girl who looked somewhat like me. The same blonde hair and grey shirt, overall the same. Only I would notice a difference.

But I saw it.My face looked different; it looked more perfect, and angular, compared to its usual lopsided round. It was almost too perfect, and my skin was deathly pail. It looked like I had died or something. My cheeks were neither rosy nor pink, just an off white. My hair looked brittle, and overall I looked older, frailer…My eyes were different too. They looked deeper, glassier to me. And they were no longer hazel, or green or brown. They were slowly etching their way to black. Just like the color of coal. The image kind of scared me and I can still see it when I think hard. Maybe it was just the lighting, but the thought of me being so /different/ really scares me. I mean I didn’t even recognize me, I had to look around and make sure my biological twin wasn’t standing right next to me, and I was seeing her instead of myself. That seemed much more logical at the time. As much as my reflection scared me, I really wanted that mirror. It felt so…magical to me. My hands are shaking thinking of it. Yet somehow I cannot imagine that, image of evil in my room, all the time.

The rest was somewhat of a drag, because I kept wondering if people were looking at me, because I was so pail, and empty, and my eyes were so black. I was so frail and skinny, but no one seemed to notice as they bumped passed me.  

For a moment I wondered if I was dead, a wandering spirit or something. That would explain the reflection, and why it seemed like no one could see me. Every time I passed that mirror, I waited for the evil picture to return, but soon my color returned, and my eyes changed back to their normal color. I looked like myself again, but my heart quickened.

I couldn’t really explain why but it just scared me for some reason.

It was a really weird moment for me.

The night followed with a weird dream.

I was tied up and I was in a boat. The sky was dark but there was no rain. Someone I knew, but couldn’t recognize at the time, grabbed me and threw me overboard. I couldn’t swim and I drowned. I woke up and there was someone chasing me, and I was 18, and this little girl who looked just like an 8-year-old me was following me. I jumped a fence and began falling. I fell with a thump. I was in this world where everything was white. But for some reason I knew just what to do. There were about 8 people sitting at a table. I covered 6 of them with a white cloth and sprinkled salt on their heads and they vanished. 2 were left, but I didn’t want them to go. One was a lady, she looked like a queen (she was wearing a big colorful dress and a crown) and her skin was like a rainbow, and the second was a little boy who could barely see above the table. “Can I trust you?” I asked both of them. The 8-year-old me, I realized, was following me at this point, she said her name was Alice. “Of course, sweetheart” the queen lady said. And she handed me a bag filled with money ($52, for some reason I really remember that number) and she pointed me to this big stage over an empty auditorium. Alice followed me. We went to the stage. There was a drum set onstage so I started drumming and Alice began to sing. After a while the queen said, “that’s enough.” Next to her was a boy, a beautiful boy. Jasper he said his name was. (funny, both Alice and Jasper are characters in a book I’m reading) The little boy from the table still hid timidly behind the queen’s leg. A man came out from behind the auditorium (I cant remember his exact name but it was an So I believe, funny because there aren’t many So names, it was something weird like Soothe or something) “that’ll be $52” he said. I got kind of mad but I gave him the money. I looked to the queen, and suddenly I was in my patio, there was a weird black staircase so I followed it down to the darkness. Someone was chasing me, I could hear the footsteps. Suddenly I fell onto a bridge. Alice was still with me. I saw a gondola going passed the river under me and me and Alice jumped in. “Chloe, for you,” Soothe (or whatever) began as I stood up in the boat. “For you I would do anything.” He paused as if to use words to measure his love for me. “For you, I’d tie myself up and throw myself into this river.” He said.

Suddenly I was struck with love. I don’t really remember what really happened after that, but next thing I knew I was jumping, tied up back into the river, but this time I wanted to. Soothe jumped in after me (now I was watching this like a movie) but he couldn’t get my body in time and I drowned again. Suddenly
Alice transformed. She was a beautiful brunette with pixie short hair (just like in my book) and she began explaining why I died and why I committed suicide, like somehow she knew. Then her, Jasper, Soothe and the Queen all jumped over a fence. Suddenly an image of Nick P.’s face filled my entire head, expanding till it nearly hurt. That’s when I realized the little boy at the table, and the man who threw me overboard in the beginning of my dream were both Nick. I think I may have realized this in the subconscious part of my mind, the part that might have been half awake. I woke up and I was in a hospital, just as white as the mystery world. And the doctor standing over me, it was Soothe. I do basically remember that he had light brown hair and green eyes, and that’s all I can recall about his appearance. My heart nearly burst (in my dream that is).

And then I woke up.

I tried to fall back asleep and go back to Soothe because I really liked him, but the sleep after that was dreamless.Kind of a weird dream if you ask me. And by no means pleasant…I have no idea /what/ I was thinking before I went to sleep (if after all your dreams are what you think about before you sleep)

My mom tried to analyze it. She said Alice was my “secret wish to be young again”, the fact that I was 18 was “my fear of growing older”, the fence was “the wall I feel like I am facing,”, the boat was “my insecurity” and when I made everyone disappear at the table it shows my “rebel against authority”, Soothe was “my yearning for adventure”, the hospital was “my fear of getting hurt” and she thought the whole Nick thing was “just weird”.

Of course I edited some parts of my dream for her so she wouldn’t think I was crazy (like the suicide part, or how someone kept following me, or how Nick threw me overboard and I drowned twice…)

It’s kind of funny, because I was just telling Courtney not long ago that I wanted to die by drowning, because I think it would be peaceful. Ironic almost…

So it was a pretty weird day for me, that mirror thing combined with the dream really threw me over the top. Well, if you’re up for trying to analyze my dream, I’d really like to hear your ideas. This dream is the most curious I’ve had in quite a while…