Tuesday, October 03, 2006

in between..

In between co workers telling you to, "do acid and then go to the AGO, you mind will be blown and you will redo your entire value system" and engaging in platonic activities with a not so platonic friend from your past....I discovered:

I am getting more and more in tune with my dreams ever since this "friend" gave me a brief, but informative lesson on surrealism. The untidy theory that suggests reality and dreamland are not so far off each other. so I keep having dreams in which I am confronted by people and demons from my past and they ask me in a very vague mannerism why I do the things I do and make the choices I make, which is somewhat unsettling since I am wrestling with those thoughts on a conscious level everyday.

In non-dreamland, I cant seem to figure out what I want from people or what I want to do. I don't want to travel,..I dont want to work. I definately dont want to go back to school..(yet). However, I also dont want to lie around. And I definately dont want a relationship. This basically exhausts all post undergraduate options and I want none of it? How could this be? I had four years to figure out what I would want to do and trained and trained in the grueling race that is business admin only to be more confused post degree (oh and very very single...)

We use the "school" thing as our excuse to buy time; to avoid the real world in all its mightyness until we can't put it off any longer.

But now, I cant even avoid it when I sleep. My former ex's (cone, kade etc..) are constantly coming up to me in my dreams; in my makeshift sub-created cubicle and asking me...where did you go wrong, you had it all figured out. what happened?? For me its seemingly unfitting that someone I obviously didnt see a future with would be questioning me constantly about my future in my dream.

Im sure their is a surrealistic dream meets reality reason for all this...but I crave a popcicle and they are upstairs. So perhaps I will ask them tonite; what the hell it is that they want.

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