We All Dream

...we do not understand our dreams. yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake.
-Erich Fromm

As of late, a lot of weird things have been happening in my dreams and in my life. I have been thinking about them a lot lately and I just thought I'd share them with you.

Twice, I have dreamed about going to Plato's Closet and looking for my lost ITALIA shirt. I found it in the first dream, but I couldn't buy it at the time (maybe because I was asleep in bed...), and in the second dream, they were rearranging the store so that only part of it was rearranged by color. I don't remember if I ever found my shirt, but I think I did. I hope I keep having those dreams, because it makes me feel better about my shirt being there. I know that my dreams are only my subconcious working out things that are on my mind, but it still feels reassuring to me.

I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but I don't like to sleep. I hate sleeping. Every time I sleep, I feel like I'm wasting time. Every hour I spend asleep, I could be drawing, talking, writing, reading, watching, and I remind myself of that all the time.

So it's really weird that I have taken a nap almost every day this summer, including at my friend's house on my birthday! I get ten to fourteen hours of sleep every day... that's a lot! Especially for me! Now, sometimes it's because I'm actually tired. But in the morning, I won't wake up because I always want to finish my dream. In the most recent one that I remember, I was in New Jersey, and I was with a bunch of street kids on some kind of trip. Something went wrong, and we had to make our way down McCormick's Creek (which, by the way, is in Indiana), but it wasn't much of a creek, it was more like a really huge, really fast river. One boy in particular offered to help. We rode down the creek on this log, and it was amazing. The boy was African American, and I remember thinking at one point, "Wow, he has got the most gorgeous skin I have ever seen." He told me his name was McCormick's Creek. It was really weird, and even though I stayed in bed two extra hours to see how the dream ended, I don't remember.

A few nights ago, I was taking Greg home, and we stopped a thrift store to see when it opened. The thrift store was right next to the square, and Kalel (a boy that Elsa really likes) was on the square with a friend and we talked a little bit, and he seemed... really weird. Not nearly as nice or fun as he normally is, and Elsa had recently been talking about how he sometimes acts different or ignores her around different people. So, a couple of nights later, I was talking to her about her thinking that Kalel was this perfect guy, when really, he would disappoint her at times even if they did date, because he seemed to be kind of superficial, and she... sort of freaked out.

Elsa doesn't dream. I mean, everyone dreams, but she never remembers her dreams. It turns out that the reason she spazzed was because the same night I ran into Kalel on the square was the night she had a dream about him ignoring her around a bunch of other people, and it was the only dream she had ever remembered.

So, a lot of strange things have been happening in the sleep of me and others lately. And that's all I got.

<3 o.

Well, Crud.

For a couple of years now, I've had a t-shirt that just hangs in my closet. It is a very nice t-shirt that I got on sale, and it fits me perfectly. It is a light peach-pink with the red word "ITALIA" written across the front with a green border. I never wore it because it was also a reminder of a painful time during my life, during which I wore it a lot (it was brand new then). Since then, I have never been able to wear it, but couldn't bring myself to throw it away.

Today, I thought I would sell some shirts and stuff to Plato's Closet for a few extra dollars, a plan that ultimately failed, and while getting the clothing together, I thought, "I'll never wear that shirt again. I might as well not keep it." So I put it in the bag with the rest of the shirts.

It happened to be one of the few items I actually ended up selling to them, and as soon as I walked out of that store, I immediately realized that I'd made a mistake in getting rid of it.

Even though it was a sad part of my life, and it is over, I cannot get rid of or forget about what happened during it. It is impossible to delete part of one's life, but even if it were possible, it would be a foolish thing to do. And even though I don't enjoy thinking about it, if I had the choice, I would not throw away those memories. They are sad, yes, but they have taught me good lessons, and even though they are over, I am certain that they will come in handy in the future.

So I regret selling my t-shirt. Like my memories from that part of my life, I'm sure I could have gotten a few more good wears from it.

Now, I'm not really one to pass up opportunity. So, if I find an opportunity to rescue that shirt from the depths of obscurity and an existence of meaninglessness, I shall indeed do so.

Hopefully I can find the time to create that opportunity before anyone kidnaps it from the Plato's Closet rack...

<3 o.