...

       The good news is, yesterday I dreamed of my favorite singer again. The concert recording in my dream was 99% the same as it is in real life, except for the last few seconds; in my dream she took a little longer to catch her breath. That was the only difference; everything else, everything, was perfect.

      And then I dreamed of getting bullied, and in my dream, anything goes....so, I strung them up to the ceiling, hauled an elephant-sized alligator into the room, and let him jump at them and snap his gigantic teeth below them like Shrek 4 Dragon. And yes, I am just thinking of that comparison now.

      I haven't gone out much since that day. Joy walks have been cut down to zero, with little temptation to start up again. Not because it was so bad, but because it could have been worse. They could have yelled, "That's the woman who broke into my house!" or something.

      I hate people. I hate getting randomly attacked online, I hate feeling like everybody is out to get me. I was already trying to not be my old, self-conscious, pessimistic self who thought every single person was thinking of how ugly I am, and every plane that went by was a war plane, and every car that drove past would do a drive-by, and every person I walked past on the sidewalk would push me onto the street.... I mean, that fear has never gone away, but I was actually doing much better.

      It was probably no big deal for her, just a cry for attention, but every bad interaction scars me. Last night, I made several enemies online without saying a word. What is it about people? What is wrong with people? I reiterate, 8.3 billion people, and nobody is kind. Well, except for that woman at the cashier, who was grateful I held up a pack of gum and accidentally reminded her to buy some, and the street preacher, probably only because I was kind to her. If I'd said, "Sorry, I'm an atheist," she probably would've given me grief, too. Gosh, in today's world, she probably would've turned it into a racial thing.

      I mean, I'm not a pansy or anything. I don't regret the loss of my 3-year-5-month relationship, but I wasn't the one who ended it over something so trivial that I overlooked my partner's perfectly valid reason for having her position on the matter. This Halloween will mark the one-year "anniversary" of our split, and I'm really okay. I didn't think I would be, but thank god, I still feel nothing. Except confusion, I do feel that. Wondering what everyone's problem is. "Grown women shouldn't walk around practically naked when there's children everywhere," what is so unforgiveable about saying that? I bet my left arm, my writing hand, he would've felt differently if it was his kid. Just because it wasn't.... Fine. I'm a bitch, a truly terrible person, because after seeing a certain physical feature when I was a little girl, I don't think other children should be at risk of an indecent flash. But of course he didn't consider that, consider my reasons, for a moment. Whatever.

      It's better this way. Christ, maybe I should just give up on friend-making. I keep saying it; no good people. I should listen to myself. And I am tempted to delete all my social medias, but I wasn't approached on Facebook (for awhile). I wasn't approached on dA, where I still have one friend. Sort of. We chat every few days, sometimes he says something I dislike, but he hasn't been a prick. And we've been speaking for a little over two years. On Facebook, people keep saying, "Message me," then don't respond when I do, or they say, "Can I message you?" and they don't if I say yes. In the case of Daniel, we spoke, we got along, he expressed interest, then he ghosted me. So....whatever. People suck. Pretty sure this guy on dA is not an outlier, but we'll see. Hell, maybe outliers exist.

Hopeful

       I'm on these new gummies (the safe, legal, kids-can-reach-them kind) to help me sleep. Melatonin, I think. I hope they're as good as I think they are. I've taken them twice, and I've had deeper sleep with better dreams. No bears, no spiders, no violent deaths, just Olivia Wilde and a fortune. I was actually disappointed to wake up for a reason other than, "I need more."
      Well, I do need more, I'll always need more. Unless it is just a symptom of depression or...something else. But I will take these good dreams and deeper sleep for as long as I can.

Attacked?

       So I made the mistake of going out today. Two people were walking towards me, away from the store I was going to, and naturally I skirted around them, because no one ever does that for me and someone has to be courteous. All of a sudden the girl (or at least the one I could tell was a girl) gets in my face. "Really?" she says, "You're showing your face after f***ing my dad?"

      I happen to be a virgin, so I tell her I don't know her or her dad and keep walking. "Really? You're just going to walk away?" I ignore it, I don't even look back. I go in the store, do my shopping, and sit on the bench outside because it's a long walk, and I have to walk home; on two busted ankles, nerve damage on the bottoms of my feet, and multiple organs saying, "Nope! I can't do this anymore."
      Well, by then these people have followed me to the store, and they get in my face again, insisting I f***ed her dad. I keep telling her I don't know her, I don't know her dad, they have the wrong person, but they won't let it go. Then she says, "Give me your umbrella," and I refuse, because I'm starting to think she'll beat me with it, right? Next she tells me, "You just missed out on $10,000. We're influencers," and then she demands I kiss her boot and say "I'm a good little who**." When I decline, she decides to move on to my appearance; she noticed the pop in my purse and said I was big enough. Then they latch onto the word "sl*t." Again, I'm a virgin. In fact a prude.

      At this point they've been in my face for about 10 minutes altogether, and I'm freaked. So I wait for them to leave, I start heading home, and who do you think I see? Now there's people all over the place, and there they are, screaming profanities at me.

      So humiliating. I was kind of shaken up, but mostly annoyed. Life is hard enough. A bad heart, bad kidneys, bad lungs, and a brain problem are....what, inadequate? It wasn't much better than when my idiot stepfather decided to yell, "R*pe! Help, r*pe!"
      Anyway, I just needed to vent. I'd been looking for inspiration to become a shut-in all over again, and I think I have it. Now, I could look at this as someone out there actually thinking people are willing to touch me and I should be grateful. Or, I could think, why does she care so much if her father is sleeping around? So what? Maybe that's how you were given life, sunshine. And if he's so dishonest about it, why defend him?

      I don't know. I'm still kind of in shock. I think if I'd handled it any different, they might've beaten me. I remained calm, I didn't say anything I regret, and I walked away. Three times. But now, I'm going to be thinking of it whenever I have to leave the house. I really think I've found my inspiration to hide myself away like I used to and maybe even be okay with it again.

Dreambabble

       I dreamed that I was singing one of my favorite songs, with my favorite singer, which makes twice! So I started my day well. It wasn't a perfect dream, because instead of just rocking out, we were also trying to escape the people throwing axes and stuff at us. Way too much Walking Dead, I guess. So there we are, trying not to give away our positions, and we start belting D6, which believe me, is more impossible than actually meeting her one day.

      Hah. Awesome. I really just want to dream of singing with her every night. Preferably without the added psychos, but I'll take it.

      So twice with Floor, and once with Jeffrey Dean Morgan in a planetarium. How can I go from forgetting relatives' names, forgetting they exist, forgetting how to use scissors――to having the most incredible dream?

      The mind is a mysterious thing, I guess....

Huh....

       Not sure about my health lately. If I have the audacity to skip a meal, which I was used to, I start trembling like I have Tourette's (which really does sound like a group of females touring a city), and every single time I stand up, my ears start to ring.

      And my mother thinks she might have an ulcer. I set money aside for her birthday, but I'm contemplating turning it into emergency taxi fares for both of us.

What Goes Up...

       I was so excited months ago to get a streaming TV, but it didn't last long. I used to have my own credit card, which didn't last long either; the bank decided to tell me, "Your Visa isn't a Visa card," whatever the hell that means, so it got canceled even though I was responsible with it. So....when I got the streaming TV, I had to rely on someone else's card, my brother's. Recently he got hacked, canceled everything, and didn't order a new one. So my streaming TV is pretty much a regular one, with access to YouTube and Roku.
      I'm glad they're there; I just didn't get to explore very much, and now I can't. I could try to get a new card myself, but I kinda feel like they're out to get me. "Not a Visa card," what the hell does that even mean? Okay, can I use it for gym membership? Gift card, maybe?
      Ridiculous. All those people abusing their cards get to hold on to them, but me, they cut. Yeah, great choice, guys.
      So far, in all those months, all those shows I did check out, I only found one that I love. Surprise, it's one I thought I would hate for its downgrade in graphics; Puss In Boots: The Last Wish. I admit, I've become sort of obsessed with it. I'm downloading it right now because...well, I want to see if it works, obviously! I did give it a negative review in the past, but I may have changed it to a glowing one. I should probably check that. Oh, it's such a cute movie. Antonio Banderas reprises his role as Puss In Boots, who has fearlessly adventured his way down to his last life, and Death decides, "I'm going to teach him a lesson," so he frightens him all the way into slowing down and appreciating what he has. It's so good. Really, I was binging it and reactions of it, and it still hasn't gotten old. So my new favorite ascending order of the Shrek World is, Shrek The Third sucks, but it may be better than Shrek 5, which I hope is better than the train wreck it appears to be. Then Shrek 1, which is perfectly alright and very rewatchable. Then the original Puss In Boots movie, then Shrek 2, which is pretty amazing, especially the detail of the beads on Fiona's dress. Then Shrek 4 and The Last Wish take the completely-destroyed-out-of-irritation cake! I can't even choose between Warrior Fiona and Death.
      Of course, it doesn't impact the order of my marathons; Puss In Boots, Shrek 1, Shrek 2, Shrek 4, and The Last Wish, omitting Shrek 3 and very likely omitting Shrek 5 as well. But that's a marathon; I will watch any one of those by itself if the mood strikes.
      Woohoo! My download is over halfway. Taking awhile, but if it works, it's worth it. And if I can put it to DVD, well, I'll be "sitting on top of the world."
      I saw a reaction video to Toy Story 5, which also seems like unwatchable drivel. I think I will watch it again in its uninterrupted entirety before I make my final judgment. Guess I owe Shrek 5 that much. And with how stubborn I initially was with The Last Wish, who knows? Maybe I'll grow to love them, too. Seems unlikely, but 24 years of being a Shrekkie deserves less than 2 hours of my time.

ETA (4:09 AM): HOLY CRAP IT WORKED!!!

Not Good!

       I'm kind of pissed right now. I live in this little apartment-like building, and there have only been two decent neighbors in the past decade. The first one took off a long time ago, and now the other one is leaving. And our slumlord has illegally allowed someone to move into the building, who wants her unit. This squatter has been talking to the other tenants, who want her to "break in and take it" because Neighbor is well within her rights to stay until October.

      Neighbor needs Lawyer, that's what she needs. The reason I'm pissed is because the other neighbors have no lives, so they're constantly poking their noses into ours. "How did you sleep last night? What did you buy today? Got any plans? What's for dinner? Have you lost weight?" That would be annoying enough, but I recently learned that they talk sh!t about us behind our backs, and now they're slandering us to Squatter, turning her against us before she's even a legal tenant.... It's so frustrating. They even have her convinced that one of the neighbors, Bob (I don't care about him enough to protect his privacy), is the property manager who oversees everything and gives orders to the rest of us.

      No, dear. The landlord is the property manager.

      They have her thinking my brother is useless, when he plows the driveway so well, everybody gives praise. Well, she'll see for herself when he's out there working his ass off and everybody she trusts are useless. That is, if he still does them the favor after how they've treated him; I say snow them in.

      I am so tired of douchebags like these. 2018 or whatever, Bob seemed like a decent human being. When we went to court fighting another neighbor, he was there. He was frustrated and fed up, too; now he's part of the problem and behaving just like him. I don't know if he drank too much and his last lonely brain cell drowned, but he changed.

      The neighbor that's moving away, they had her turned against us too, in the beginning. Then she regretted ever listening to them and started hanging around us, even showing me the respect of using my full name, the first person in history to be stubborn about granting my super simple wish. Didn't think much of her at first, and now she's someone we can wish was still here. I just hope it's not too late by the time Squatter realizes she has it all backwards.

      This is what happens when you fly blind. Even as I write this, more damn drama is happening. Why can't these so-called grownups shut up and just observe, and maybe learn something? It's fine to get a second opinion at the hospital; God forbid you do it anywhere else....

...

       I have to go to a birthday dinner tomorrow. It'll be the first time I'm at a restaurant in months, and a fancy one with menus in over a decade. I'm really not looking forward to it; I wonder if I can stay home; unfortunately people have this weird inclination to celebrate being another year closer to death. Don't worry, I didn't put that on the card; although there are cards like that. Blame Hallmark.

     I hate this guy. I mean I really hate him. I also hate the miscon-ception that you can't hate someone without loving them. Makes no sense. Love is love, and hate is hate. You can hate someone you used to love. You can be angry at someone you still love. But you can't hate and love someone at the same time. You can't go from, "I wish you'd die" to "I still love you" in five seconds. It's just not possible, unless you're mentally unstable.

     And what's the deal with "Money can't buy happiness"? That person was clearly spoiled rotten; no bills to pay, no shelves to stock, Mommy and Daddy took care of everything. Sleep on the floor and share half a package of stale crackers and then tell me money can't buy happiness. Douche.

      I think people who come up with sayings need to stop playing philosopher and take some pills. Life isn't a poem, it's not a river, it's not a highway, not a bowl of cherries or a box of chocolates. It's a race to the finish line. Or, as Cain so eloquently said, it's an "eternal wasteland of meaningless existence. A dark void staring down at you like a beaten dog scrounging on the side of the road just waiting to get mowed down by the next tsunami of crap."

      Not Shakespeare, but eloquent all the more.

    F**k. I hate birthdays. Maybe if I didn't get a migraine on mine every year. Always punctuated, of course, by "Happy birthday to you," which oddly enough, sounds miserable. Lucifer, The Big Bang Theory. They all sound so...dead. Isn't it supposed to be a celebration? Instead it sounds like the song you hear as you walk to your empty grave. Seriously, Google it if you don't know the scenes. At least in Liar Liar, they sound alright; some people actually hit that high note.

      Life certainly seems like it was better 30+ years ago. I often hear these wild, crazy tales of when music and dance flooded the streets...

EDIT: Thank god. I didn't have to go to a restaurant. Still did the birthday dinner, and it was alright. I think I can find a way past my hatred after all.

Weird

       I don't even know why I'm bothering coming back here. I'm not very active on any of my social medias, so I guess I just need a place to talk freely. I know nobody reads this, so it feels safe. Sure, a thread got (randomly, unjustifiably) censored, but that just means one person encountered my profile once since 2007. Anyway, anyone who can't handle free speech can go watch Teletubbies and leave the grownups alone.

      I don't have much of anything constructive to say. But I am thinking about something weird that happened earlier tonight. I went for a walk, and when I got home, my brother and I spoke. Then he stepped out of the room for a minute. Came back and said, "Oh, when did you get home?"

      I really thought he was bullshorting me, but no. He insisted he didn't remember at all.

      It's weird. It's worrying. I'm supposed to be the forgetful one; he's supposed to be the strong, damn near invincible one. Bouncing back from, I think seven (???), strokes. Coming back, and coming back, no matter what. Bad luck with his health, bad luck with people, and just coming back again and again. Not immortal, not invincible, but close to that.

      I know I'm forgettable, but it's weird to see someone so smart, someone who can remember being a baby, forget something so recent.

      Anyway. That's that. I'm going to talk about something else now; games. Not fun and games, but the absurd ones I came across in my local Wal-Mart. I'd share pictures or videos if I could, but you'll have to Google them yourself, if you're even reading. And dear children-at-heart, you may want to click away now.

      I went to Wal-Mart twice recently, with my mother. She wanted Yahtzee sheets, so into the games aisle we went. She didn't find them, the employee didn't find them, but something caught my eye; a game called Exploding Kittens. Yes, really, look it up. Now...as someone who lost her kitten when it was hiding in a T-shirt on laundry day, that's not funny. If I hadn't lost my kitten, guess what? Not funny.

      A few days later, we went back to Wal-Mart (I wouldn't have, but I worry about her being out in this craptown by herself, so I go to keep an eye on her). Back to the games aisle for her precious Yahtzee sheets, and again, no luck. But something else caught my eye. It was a big face in a box, with a vertical line where its mouth would be. Or what I thought was a line. As I got closer, I realized it was butt cheeks. The toy is called Chester Cheeks. Turns out when you interact with this toy, it farts! Well, I didn't know that, and really should have read the box. At least waited until all those people were gone.

      Well, that's about it, I guess. Thinking about forgetfulness and a stupid fascination with flatulence. Pardon the alliteration. I'm off... but not off my rocker, like certain toy companies.

Pretty Much Dead Already

       I guess I can relax for awhile. Made it to my appointment yesterday and spent 5 minutes in her office, so most of that whole adventure was being on hold with the taxi service. Fun, right? But I got to have the weirdest coincidence, twice. Before that, I was watching a Scrabble show on TV, and the first two contestants I see are named Dan and Roseanne. Then I start this whole attempt at finding work, and my case managers are Kelly and Darcy. It's like all my least favorite shows are coming to life.

      I also caught some episodes of Little House, and within a few seconds, there were a Henry and Eva (my aunt and uncle), and a Joe and Betty (my stepfather and mother). And a Mary of course (grandma). So that was interesting. Then I caught the episode where Mary goes to the blind school, and Adam tells her to unpack, and she finds the mirror. What the hell is a mirror doing in a blind person's room? That makes as much sense as a stereo in a deaf person's room.

      Well, anyway, my entire blog has been one pointless journal entry after another, and as Dr. Jenner says, "I bet there isn't a single son of bitch out there still listening." So I think I might as well quit, too. Wish I could say it's been fun. But who knows? Maybe I'll come back one day.

ALRIGHT!!

      I am so freaking excited. Finally, finally, I got back into my Avakin Life account. It's been 5 years because they wanted me to take these impossible steps, but they finally made it easy and they kept my account. I'm a level 41 again! I don't have to start over this time! Last I tried, I was a level 0, whoo, I was mad!
      But they actually improved everything. The graphics are better, I can zoom in again, there's even reflections and ripples in water that used to be dark and still. They removed all of the ads. And I'm fricken BACK, BABY! For the first time since 2021. I look forward to doing my Egypt adventure again.

      Hopefully this time they just leave it alone...

...

       Okay, so I just got back from applying for my first job. If I ever do that again, I'll try to remember to use a different computer; the one she assigned me to was nothing but trouble! I spent so long moving that slow cursor, I was surprised by how fast mine is! I keep missing my target, I have to get used to it again. If I had a computer that cooperated, I'd have been done two hours ago.

      I spent so long sitting there, doing nothing. The employee helping me kept alternating "my" desk and her own, answering the phone, talking to other employees, and asking how far along I was (in the application process). I hit a few trouble spots, but was able to sort them myself, until the very end. Then she tried helping me and even she, a worker, was getting frustrated by the equipment she relies on. Apparently it had never been so problematic before, so I guess I am special after all. But finally, after taking the damn thing out of air-plane mode and accidentally shutting the computer down, she fixed it somehow, allowing me to finally skip an unskippable part that wasn't working. And I finished.

      I am now awaiting an interview. I just hope she can forgive me if I have to do that all again! But she said my patience was "amazing." Not gonna lie, felt pretty good. I haven't received many compliments since my nurse said my blood pressure was "stellar," and it usually is sky-high. I guess being in a hospital surrounded by blood and vomit, death and disease, germs and tragedy really brought me peace.

      "That, by the way, was sarcasm! I in fact believe it is a big deal."

    Anyway, following that spectacle, we opened the door on a junkie's foot; then my ride bought surprise fast food to celebrate. It's so good. What is it about this killer concoction that's so delicious? All my problems can wait until the last bite.

      Shit, I still can't keep up with this cursor. Well, I'm off, and in five days' time I could join the working class, ladies and gents. We'll see!

YESSS!!! (3)

       Tomorrow I apply. Much as I want things to change, I do not want to take that long-ass drive. I get nauseated in the taxi before it's even out of the parking lot... Of course it's a big-ass parking lot.

      As expected, I am continuing to have doubts. I guess I want and fear change. I just wish I knew how flexible this whole thing was. You know, on a scale of elastic band to brick wall. Or even a stuntman, pushing himself to work through broken bones. If I want to back out, I want the freedom to back out. And I should, if it is just cleaning rooms or taking a desk job; it's not like I'm interviewing to cook meth or join the mafia.

      At least applying will be easy and local. Short drive, application process, less than an hour I think. But going to the resort... Hell, staying there for a month. I'm not sure. This may not be the furthest I'll have ever been from home, but the longest. As pathetically boring as my life is, it's safe. It's easy.

      I think my night will be spent researching this place and looking at photos. Hopefully for once, the pros will outweigh the cons.

      ETA: I was unintentionally misinformed. The job is not exclusive to a strange, cold place; I can work anywhere. I thought it was an opportunity to go to a resort, and I didn't inquire; she assumed I knew and didn't explain. But it's a regular job search that can still let me sleep in my own bed at night. Yay!

YESSS!!! (2)

       So I've given it minimal thought, and come up with what I would do with my money if, and only if, I got the job. I would hire a publisher, and go on vacation. Not like I've already planned the destination, but I've never gone on vacation before. I went to see my brother and we went to the beach in that time, but the whole time I stood in the water I could have cried from the pain. Stupid feet. I don't know why, but it often feels like somebody is pushing needles into the bottoms of them. One of the friends I thought I had said it might be peripheral neuropathy. Nerve damage.

      It would be so cool to put my name out there. My real name, not more of this username crap. It's been a long time since I was 15. Maybe I ought to change it again; here at least, and Fanfiction, too. Can't afford to change it on deviantART. Usernames, and viewing statistics by the way, should be free. It's sufficient that it's a platform where people can sell art―real or fake! If I was a "deceptive little parasite," I just might put a price tag on stuff I didn't make, too.

      Hm. A pen name... Oh, the possibilities! The vacation might have to wait; I've wanted to be an author much longer, and much more. Unless it's where all the celebrities are made. I have always wanted to be an actress. Not even so much for the pay, but for the people. Not to mention I could laugh at others' mistakes without being called a b*, and even if I am completely unlovable, someone might be hired to act as my friend. A real one. Maybe they could even say something incredible, like, "I need to talk about this with her first," or, "I'm your dad and I'm a terrible human being and I'm sorry."

      It would totally rock to get paid to find closure and hear words I'll never hear otherwise. And yeah, meet people. Somebody. You know, I'm not even sure about this whole thing. It's exciting to think about, but I'd have to ride with somebody I cannot stand. And if I have to stay there for several weeks, or a month, and he stays, too... I don't know if I could keep being civil. God, his laugh sounds like a bouncy ball that got trapped under a chair. And I'm not mocking him; he chooses to laugh this way. It's not a belly laugh, it's a dry, sour, completely humorless, "He...he...he...hehehehehe" that goes on for ten seconds. You could say the funniest damn thing in the world, he'll do that bouncy ball laugh, no expression on his face.

      He also talked about my boobs and wants to touch me all the time. I really just want to slap him away like a child trying to take too many cookies, or worse, take mine. Hehe.

      I guess I'll have to ask if he'd drop us off. And if he doesn't, maybe I need to put up with it. I really want things to change, but a chance is a hard thing to come by. Plus I'd be cleaning rooms and he'd be fishing or whatever, so maybe I wouldn't need to deal with him too much.

      This bright side thing is really weird.

YESSS!!!

       Ohmigosh, I am so freaking excited! I was just given the opportunity to apply for a job at a ski resort! Sure, I'll have to clean rooms and potentially go off-grid, but I could get away from here and maybe even meet people. And I'll be in the mountains! And, bonus, I'm in a position to buy a laptop. I can take it with me! I can take all my stories with me! And if I'm good, I can bring home $2,000. If I'm great, more than that, and I could get raises and I could do it several, maybe many times! I finally, finally, finally, finally have a chance to get a freaking life! To get a distraction! A chance, a long-awaited chance, to change the futility of my existence. Cleaning, which I hate, but the way I'm going, I'll become Peggy Bundy, and I hate that b*!

      Yes, yes, yes! The mountains! Snow, and people, and cash, oh my! Rides, and restaurants, and cash, oh my! And PEOPLE! Life, actual life, beyond these walls! Something nobody knows about me is that I miss, every morning, a complete stranger. I never knew his name, but we were neighbors for a decade...over a decade ago. My whole life, I've always been trapped and depressed, wandering my house with nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to meet no matter how hard I tried. I was waiting to die, but every morning, around 5 AM, I'd hear him fussing with the lock on his gate. Opening the gate, shutting it. It was chain link, and I actually stayed awake, listening to that small, transient sound of life. It comforted me to know there was life out there, and that he was healthy enough to work.

      It's weird. Now that I'm on a noisy street, with vehicles driving by nonstop, I just want silence. But anyway, not the point; the point is that I could actually do something. Go somewhere. Meet someone. I mean, I have traveled a lot, but my last adventure was in 2021... unless we count The Great Kidney Rescue. But I need excitement that's fresh. I need fresh memories. And I need more life experience. Badly. And I have not been this excited since 2021. Before that... never. This is the first thing I've wanted in a long time, or at least the first possible thing.

      I can't wait to apply. I wonder if I'll get a uniform!

    HolycrapIcouldgoonaride!!! Or maybe I could go sledding! I've wanted to do that again since the second grade! This could be everything!

Apocalypse Dream!!!

       I had a lot of dreams in my last sleep. My most memorable one is the, spoiler alert, apocalypse dream. It took place in a hotel near the ocean...or maybe just a big-ass house. It started with me running after characters from The Walking Dead; I followed Tyreese, Lizzy, and Mika. For some reason he put the baby, Judith, on the ground and then they all ran away, and we ended up at the hotel. We locked the door, tried to be quiet, but the floor was very creaky. Just like at home.

      In the silence, we could hear the walkers moving through the hallways, looking for prey. I looked out the window and saw a cat, attempting to nurse her kittens, while her insides were falling out.

      That's pretty much the end of that dream, and I just remembered another one! So weird. So my Sims were at a party, and when it ended they were going to meet up at the library, when I got the notification that a "show of lights" was starting. They ran outside to "look at all the pretty colors," and I pressed Tab and lifted into the air for a clear view. Found these fireworks that had launched off, but they hadn't exploded; they just froze in the sky, three dragons made only of light. Somehow they became real enough to blow fire at me, then the third one began following me everywhere, like a damn Roblox pet. My dream self was so freaked I quit the game. Of course it asked if I wanted to quit, causing my character to freeze, and this firework dragon latched onto my head, slash camera. I woke up as my entire dream was becoming just a field of whiteness.

      So friggin weird. But I'll take weird over scary, any day!

...

       I had a bizarre dream today. That it was vivid enough to be mistaken for reality is just a given; I am a highly lucid dreamer. Just call me Lucider! But yeah, it could probably be classified as a nightmare; I was in the passenger seat of the car my mother used to have. She was driving on the highway, and the rails actually looked blurry because of how fast we were going. I could see reflections, shadows...everything.

      And then a city bus fell off the cliff. Even the splash was realistic; I could see all those individual water droplets. I could see their faces, hear the screams. No wonder I'm tired and headachy all the damn time; my brain works too hard. My mother and I got out of the car and stood at the shore, waiting to see if they needed help, but even in my dream we couldn't swim.

      It was kind of a relief to wake up, and I actually felt awake enough to keep my bloody eyes open. So I've actually been out in the living room this whole time, acting alive. I'll try to make some fudge―last time I didn't have enough butter. We were critically low on bread and today my mother went shopping, so hopefully I can whip something up. Or better yet, not need it.

      But I just researched whether I can own a monkey, and in my local area, no, because they are classified as "Controlled Alien Species." Which is ironic, considering who was here first...

Strange Sight

       At 4:30 this morning, I saw...fireflies! Lots and lots of fireflies. At first I thought they were moths, because of the streetlamp, but even when they flew away from it, they were glowing and blinking. Definitely fireflies. Or embers, but since we didn't ignite, my vote's with the bugs. Maybe they liked the rain, which it hasn't done for awhile (and yes, I am complaining).
      I just wanted to watch for hours. They were circling the streetlamp, and it looked like a snow globe from Hell. I just want to see those little guys all the time. Last time I saw them, I was probably seven years old, and now...well, I'm old!

      They're beautiful, but I'm also glad my butt doesn't glow. On the other hand (or cheek, I should say) it does mean I'll never be the light of someone's life....

...

       Still going to the park. Still a disappointment every time, but I have to try.... To get exercise apparently, time in the sun, because at least that's possible....
      I've been sequestered at home for weeks because of the bears. When I go out there I'm at a point where if I see one, I'm hoping it eats me, but until I leave the house I am nervous. About a week ago seven bears were spotted in a day, and five of them beside my house. Today and yesterday I just got dressed and I went. Then to the store, today to the park.

      All that waiting, and it was just fine. I literally sat there thinking, "If I leave now, I'll get loud vehicles right in my ear," and I sure as shit did. I went to the park where it's nice and quiet, and that is where I got a headache. Not here, where all the noisy vehicles come to, but in nature.

      Whatever. I'm home now. I think I'm just going to play some Sims 3, from which I took a hefty break and got back into The Sims 2 until it glitched.... It's always been so reliable, I didn't think it could. At least not that badly.

      And I'm friendless again. Cut my newest out when he said, "You're so different from your picture (which was unedited and which he called beautiful), I thought I was being pranked." F you, buddy.

      But I'm realizing that I don't want people, maybe even more than I do want them. It's been too long. 33 years without anybody I can count on, and now I get anxious if someone thanks me for holding the door. I think I need to go live in the bush, learn how to defend myself, and just not be near humans. We are a horrible race. Of course, if I do that, I can't write my horrible books, or play my boring games.

      Oh, one last thing. Cops found a burnt body in the park. I don't go to that one much, but I could have seen it.

Facebook

       Just crawled out from under my rock to complain. Facebook's been pissing me off. Like it's not bad enough that it changes my entries―somehow―but it also changes my name pronunciation. So one minute I'm Kimberly. And the next, I'm Keem-bar-Leia. Think I'm just going to remove it so no one thinks my parents were high when I was born.

Self-Torture

       I used to think things just happened. Sometimes there was a reason, sometimes not. Lately I can't get it out of my mind that everything we do has influence. I go for walks a lot, and all I can think is, if I turn left, I might meet someone who could finally be my first true, actual friend. But if I turn right, I could get struck by a car. And if I go to the park, I could get bitten by a dog. But if I circle the block, I could find some money. I can think of the result as my best decision or my own stupid fault.
      I cannot stop thinking about cause and effect. It's in my head every time I put on my coat.

...

       It's fun knowing a person who has no clue about AI. Last week my brother made a video where Trump warns America not to let him into the US because he's dangerous. My mother flipped out. "What did you do? How did you piss off the president?!"

      Big eyes. Open-mouthed. The works. The only thing missing was a recording camera.

      Like, okay, let's be real. Does everything need to be AI? No. Am I getting a little sick of it? Yes. But come on, it can be useful. Only reason it's not is because humans are living wrong. You want a robot, then create one that clips your toenails. Calendar on my phone? Nothing I can do with it. Boom, create something that tells you where you put your phone, or your remote control. We don't need a look-alike of any celebrity we want, saying our words. We need useful AI that actually has benefits.

      And it could, if humans could focus less on entertainment and more about evolution. And when I say humans, apparently I mean scientists. We have fridges that automatically make ice; why did good ideas stop there?

Technical (And Literal) Difficulties

      I have been getting really fed up with my mouse and keyboard. Maybe it's because I have Windows 10 and all my drivers are out-dated, but if I try to zoom in (which is a lot when writing or playing games) it would zoom all the way out instead, and be very difficult to zoom back in. Conversely if I tried zooming out, it would zoom in! And my keyboard has several buttons that are sticking; I asked my brother to take it apart since his screwdriver isn't exactly labeled "Keyboard," and, well, that was last night. So anyway, rather than help me take it apart, he gave me his spare keyboard...except it's in even worse shape and naturally we had to Humpty Dumpty. I mean, put everything back the way it was, not throw it all off a bridge, which I think would feel excellent.
      More attention on the house. Negative attention. I'm starting to feel like a celebrity, only without the money and satisfaction. But, hey, speaking of money, there is some good news. I got a coin worth $20,000 and it was recently in an auction, going up to $50. And that was last I heard, so it could be worth even more now. I don't really care; personally I'd be thrilled to be worth $1,000. Can still buy a computer. Although I had another mouse in my desk which is behaving much better. I replaced that one with the mouse now in the trash, but I can't remember what was wrong with this one. Guess I'll find out soon enough.

      Been going to the park a lot trying to meet people. I hit a speedbump when I caught a cold, but now I'm back to it. I've met a handful of nice people, but I know I'll never see them again. It's always like that; I see them once and then it's like they leave town. 33 years here, and I have seen two people at least a second time. But I'm trying to convince myself that I don't need friends. I really don't want to sit there with someone who seems to like me thinking, "When and how will this person hurt me?"

      About a week ago, I met five people at once. Two of them were talking to me, and I was overwhelmed. Flattered for the attention, grateful for their concern, but it was a lot. I'm familiar with one person every few years. But honestly I've never been more hopeful to see someone twice.

     There are three types of people who have given me intimate attention; my cousin when he was a little boy asked if I'd marry him, I bet he didn't know what marriage meant. The strangers online, who don't even know what gender I am, and the young boy who wanted my phone number a few days ago. I really thought I was too busty to be mistaken for a 12-year-old, but I guess at least now I know why only kids are interested. Well, kids and the people who just can't wait to not talk to me.

      Why am I even on social media? I should just give up. Whatever, I have YouTube. Watching reaction videos helps me to feel less alone, especially when we laugh at the same time or they say something I've been saying for years. I love my smart TV so much. I never want to go back.

Happy New Year?

      (Post intended to be funny.)
     I always hate this time of year. Everybody always saying "Happy new year!" like it's something they have the power to bless me with. Or like they actually think we can put a calendar on happiness. I could be curled up on the hospital floor, I could be doing the fentanyl fold. "Happy new year!" "Be happy! Smile! It's 2026!"

      First of all, I don't give a squirrel's left nut, okay? Maybe I could be convinced to celebrate 2100. Until then, pipe down, no big deal. "We made it to 2026!" like, oh, it's such an accomplishment. Every person in the world took their turn moving the clock hand to the next minute.
      "Ah, we made it... That was close! The hand got stuck! Your Majesty, did the UK get to 2026, too?" "Almost. The very last person missed his turn, so now we're a year behind, the bugger."

      One number. One tiny number, and everybody's racing out the door to buy fireworks, pollute the environment, and blow off fingers. "This can't wait!"

      "Aww, your mom died, your pet ran away, and you got sick? Sucks to be you. Anyway, happy new year!"

STOP DREAMING!!!

       Stop it, you stupid body. Quit it.

      I had another nightmare, surprise, surprise. I was on an operating table, wide awake as the doctors cut into me. I had medical instruments wedged into the giant, gaping chasm in my stomach. The tubes poking out of me were squirting with my bodily fluids. Blood and...other stuff. Less red stuff. And the doctors decided to smear it on my face. You know, like tribal paint? Or something, I don't frickin know, I was tied up and whacked out, totally incapacitated.

      There was even more to that nightmare, but thankfully I seem to have blocked it out. At least until my dream picks up where it left off.

      I'm going to Google "medication to stop dreams" and see what comes up. Maybe I can find it in the pharmacy. Side effect, potential death? Yeah, I volunteer. I need rest!

      I am so tired of waking up feeling more exhausted than when I went to bed. It's too hard.