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I want nothing more than to be that sexy, moody, artistic waif, lounging in a coffeeshop writing poetry, existing off of black coffee and cigarettes.

BrightEyes.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

I have been having the strangest, most fragmented of dreams.
I normally have strange dreams,
but these are ridiculous.

I can hardly remember them by now,
i forget them so easily.
I don't remember my dream of last night.

But I remember a dream of eating,
I think it was crackers.
I can't remember if I was restricting or bingeing.
But I was unhappy.

I remember one of walking into my sewing class
and this girl who claims she knew me from kindergarten
(oh the perils of moving to somewhere you spent a piece of childhood.)
I don't remember her, I remember two names from my kindy.
Robin, my best friend, she was Indian, hindi I believe.
and Ian, he was my kindy boyfriend.
He's so strange now, not at all like he was.

anyways, I walk into the class,
and she walks up to me and in her typical creepy fashion
(i don't mean to be mean but I'm not sure she doesn't have a mental disability)
and said "Hiiii Akasha, oh i've missed you !"
And I just ignored her, in the dream, because she terrified me.
I don't really know.

But strange, strange dreams.
maybe I'll try and write them down first thing in the morning.
I never remember enough.
but we'll see.

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