I’m sick

I am sick, and not in the good way, I’m purely sick, sick as a duck on a cold. Sick.

Last night my boyfriend spent hours taking care of me, trying to lower my fever and preparing chamomile tea for me, which made me feel a lot better, yet, this morning I had to come to my mom’s house cause I knew I would not make it on my own for the rest of the week.

I know this is no excuse for neglecting [RINGO-ISH.org] but trust me, this getting-sick is the result of my defenses lowering after doing many things I am intending to write about. But not right now, cause I feel so tired, sick and I still have a bit of fever, and I honestly prefer to go back to bed.

The dreams

Last night I had a very weird dream, I can recall it completely, specially towards the end when it all started becoming one hell of a nightmare.

I’m not very keen on the idea of writing dreams online, I think dreams should remain privately out of blogs, cause all the appeal of blog reading to me lies on the voyeuristic idea of taking a peek into someone’s life, and even though dreams are part of everyone’s life, they do not satisfy the voyeur in me. Following this principle, I had tried to avoid writing about my dreams online, I won’t say I’m not guilty of this, I had written about my dreams about two or three times in the past 8 years (Yes, I’ve been blogging for over 8 years) but every time I’ve done it, it’s been just about a couple of sentences or a small paragraph regardless of how intense/strange/emotional the dream was.

This time, won’t be the exception. I feel like I really need to share/Vent over this particular dream.

I can’t really remember how my dream started, all I remember is me being at home, a weird home, not really my home, but I place I called home there, and my boyfriend coming over and telling me how we really, really must get married ASAP, he even took me to a weird-looking church underground, where I was treated like an hindu bride by faceless women, and then taken to the altar to him. There we were alone, none else was on that church and we started talking, which in my dream meant we were getting married. At this point, my friends, I am afraid, scared to hell actually, I am sure I don’t want to do that, I am sure I don’t what to get married at that point, not yet, I’m just not ready to go that way, and no matter what are the consequences, I have to let him know I love him, but can’t go through that yet, and I tell him. He says he understands, but seems sad, and then everything starts to crumble, everything starts to fall down, the church, the floor, everything, and when I notice I’ve lost him. He’s gone. I wake up.

I slept again after that, but my dreams were all hectic like a post-war sci-fi movie, and it was not really related.

I am a believer of dream meanings, not in the traditional “let’s look for ‘wedding’ in the dream-dictionary and see what will happen in the future” but more like an understanding of what is going on with my mind, my heart, fears, worries and everything, and based on all of this, this dream in particular really scares me. It’s not about the marriage thing, or maybe it is, I’m not sure. A couple of years ago, I felt I was more than ready to get it on, and was even engaged for a while, then it all ended and my whole perspective of marriage changed, I hadn’t considered it for years,even at this point, when I am more than happy about my relationship, my idea of ever getting married changes often and from one day to the other.

Yet… lately I’ve been under a lot of pressure about not living up to what is expected of me. I try not to think about it, but the fact that I am 25 yrs. old, had not finish my career (none of them), and that my generation is getting married, having kids, emancipating, enrolling in stable jobs and buying houses, while I try to get my way into freelancing, still rely on my family, I just engage myself in 5 more years of school, and even my mom’s been asking me when is she going to get a baby grand-kid. It’s really stressful.

I hate to complain about my life. In general, I adore my life, I am in this magnificent relationship in which I had not even had a single fight in one and a half years of us being together, we’re on the right track. I’m working my ass off in school, started my own business, and have been working on many projects that fill me with passion and joy. I am happy. Yet, I wonder. Am I accomplishing all this thing that make me so proud a little too late? Am I so in the right track as I think? Should I be getting married and having kids? Finding a stable job and forgetting my self-employment  dreams? Should I start to embrace that kind of life I despite so much? I say no.

I think my dream reflects this concern of mine. I am right now living a life I love, and I want to believe everything I want is possible, it’s not really that I don’ want to have all those ‘grown up stuff’, I want some of that, I can see the bliss of stability, I just don’t want it right now, but I guess, now that so much people around me is doing what is expected of them and fitting in the stereotype, I better get use to feeling like an outcast for trying to live the dream. And I better get a good ‘comeback’ for when people asks why am I being such an immature weirdo.

Amino Love and Acid Kisses

What’s in my bag? (yet another)

I love a good What’s in my bag post. So a couple of days ago I took a fresh picture and voila, here it is.

Here you have a list of things contained in my bag:

1. School notebook with DeviantART, Suicide Girls, Death Note, My little pony, a heart, a bear and a dinosaur stickers.
2. Leather gloves, cause mornings have been really cold lately.
3. Pink Ipod Shuffle.
4. House keys
5. School ID facing back so you can’t figure me out.
6. Spare cash
7. Flash memory in the shape of a bunny.
8. Ceramic Pillcase, it has a mirror in the inside, it’s so lovely, it contains a sleep pill, aspirin and two vitamins.
9. A dinosaur my boyfriend gifted me with, I carry it  pretty much all the time.
10. Sunglasses, my cheapest and most comfortable pair.
11. A tiny mirror
12. Lip balm mint flavored, a gift from Divymode
13. A purple lighter. I rarely (If ever) smoke, yet I am more than ready to start a fire
14. Purple glasses in a pink case. I love my glasses. I have two pairs, and I always favour these.
15. My grown up wallet. It’s Chlôe’s. I’ve been a Chlôe fan for over 6 years, I love their bags.
16. Clinique’s apple pouch containing a dental kit for emergencies, including tooth-brush, dental paste and floss.
17. My DIY Moleskine planner.
18. My journal, I love its cover.
19. A mechanical pencil, blue marker and flagging black pen
20. A card case holding my business cards.
21. My inhaler, just to help me stay alive
22. One of my two cellphones. I rarely use this one, but some people call me here.
23. And my blackberry’s case. You can’t see it here, cause I took the picture with it.
24. My bag is Zara’s Satchel, I got it for Christmas.
25. And a my wallet contains a bus pass, a debit card, Gandhi’s card, ID, Movie theatre’s card, A card from a Photographer’s and Editors association I belong to, my driver’s license, and a couple of business cards, own and received.

So tell me, What’s in your bag?

2002

After five days, she opened her eyes and noticed she was locked. What was that? She wondered, why was she feeling that way? While trying to adjust her eyes in the dark, she tried to recall the events from before she went unconscious. She couldn’t remember anything; the only thing in her mind was the pain. She was there, laying on the hard floor and feeling that cold affliction scorching her every wound.

As she incorporated, the room became a bit clearer. Had she been there before? She seemed to recognize the wet soil smell that impregnated the air, yet there was something about those stone walls that made her think she had been close to that place, but not enough to know it first hand. She couldn’t really tell why, but she felt fine, hadn’t it been for the excessive cold and hard on blood clothes, she would’ve even said she felt comfortable, everything, even her captivity seemed as if somehow, her subconscious and physical persona had been expecting to eventually be treated that way, and now that their expectations were fulfilled, they were somewhat content with the outcome. She smiled as she acknowledged this, and then, all of a sudden, everything started melting into one painful vision of what had happened. She remembered the faces, the confusion, the screams, her trying to remain calmed and fierce while everything fluttered and above all, those hands trying to reach for her. Then someone, something hitting her on the back of the head and everything going silent. So it finally happened, she thought.

How could it all arise so fast? For over 6 years she was careful, always looking for a sign, something that would warn her while proving her fears were real. As she grew older she started to believe nothing would ever occur. But now, there was no denial, the dry blood splattered all over her body served as a testimony for everything and everyone she ever trusted on, and a confirmation of her own sanity, so many times secretly thought to be lost. She was right and now her aching bones were ready to embrace her future.

She stood up with difficulty grasping every stone on the wall with her bruised hands. What would she do now? Would it be of any help if she fought back? Her current physical state would make it very difficult for her to defend herself properly, much less attempting an escape; it may even be better if she just surrender to the hands of those who locked her there.

– I’m glad to see you’re up, I was starting to get worried. – She looked in that voice’s direction just in time to see it appearing out of nowhere in the dark.

There it was, the same face that hunted her for years as a strange mix of dream and memory, those eyes, the same hair and the scornful smile tainted by a scar covering the entire left cheek, she always loved and hated that man who never seemed neither quite real to exist nor fake enough to be a mere fantasy.

– We have to go now. – And more than an order his voiced sounded as a prey. She gave her hand to him and allowed herself to be dragged; there was no point resisting him right now, there was no point asking where to go, she knew her answer would be ahead and stopping at the moment just to preserve her so called human dignity would just result in a waste of time. And she had waited enough years, maybe even decades to find out.

…

I wrote this on April 8th, 2002. I found it today and decided to share it, I was around 16 when I first wrote it on my diary, I may retake it now that I’m older. Don’t judge a woman who likes to go through her old diaries, as she wants to grow.