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.

Interesting Dream...

       10/10, I dream about a bear. For the first time ever, I dreamt that I was the bear. It was so bizarre. I was frightening people, which I loved. But I was also being hunted, which I didn't. Either the cop had a dog, or a dog had a gun, I forget which.
      I liked being the bear. I didn't have to be afraid, because I was the monster.

A Dream From Hell

       I had the weirdest dream a few hours ago. A wolf-like creature was circling my family and me on the road. Its eyes were red, and its teeth shone with fresh blood. Its spine poked out of its back.
      My mother got out of the car. I grabbed a flashlight; it was insanely bright and had a flashing mode. I shone it at the creature, blinding and scaring it. It ran away, leaving my family to chastise my mother. And then I woke up.
      This is actually a good dream, because any other night, it would have torn the flesh off her bones.

I Need To Talk About Death

       So I got talking with this guy, and over the past few months I learned he lost someone. He said she's in a better place. The topic turned to suicide and I said I happen to think of it on occasion (well, almost every day and night, but I'm trying this whole new positivity thing) and he told me not to. So now, my dear nonexistent readers, I'm truly confused. Why is it okay for someone he loves to be in a better place, but not a stranger? Hell, if someone thinks of me as a friend, why would they ask me to extend my suffering as a favor to them? And then, plot twist, celebrate me getting older. Even laughing at those "Under the hill" cards.

      I mean, instead of freaking out about my suicide talk, what I really want is for someone to give me some clarity. Just clarity, that's all I want in life. Death is not a horrifying, repulsive subject like having a crush on your dad, okay? It's a natural freaking part of life! Don't people get that?

      Told me not to, like I can just wish it all away on a dandelion fluff. "Don't do it," the most convincing argument I've ever heard. Why is it okay for her suffering to end, but not mine? I'm a good person. I never retaliated when someone hurt me, I never tattled on that kid who tried to trip me in class, never got detention, never got grounded. Why shouldn't I be able to take away the pain when medication and therapy have failed?

      Is death gruesome? Yes... But let's be real. I have multiple organ failure. I'd much rather go out on my own terms. And I'd want the people who say they love me to prove it and accept that, instead of asking me to endure everything on their behalf. I am tired of having a charity existence! It is cruel to ask someone to keep living! It is the most hateful thing you can say to someone! I am so tired of being asked to suffer for as long as I can "because I love you." Just stop with that! Freaking stop with the manipulations.

      Our feelings are more transient than we are, and we are so inconsequential. Everybody dies and life goes on. We get over it, so get over it. I'm suicidal, take it or leave it. It's a quirk, like the weirdoes who like getting up early or going shoe-shopping, or who think getting pregnant on a planet with over 150 million orphans, is a "blessing."

      Clarity. Clarity on all the hypocrisy―please!

Upon Reflection...

       Man, I love my new TV! It's like, how did I have a heavy, giant TV for so long? Especially since the TV was so much bigger than the screen itself, so it took up a lot of space and the characters were still small. Kind of pathetic, really... Really, I can't believe I haven't had this one all my life.
      And, I hate to admit it, but I also really like short hair. I never thought I would say it, never thought I would want it. Believe it or not, my dear nonexistent readers, my long (knee-) length hair was the only reason anyone would acknowledge me...at least in a positive way. They either hold the door for me, which is only a common courtesy, or they give me the death stare like they want to take my life right there in the lineup. But when it was long, they would fawn over it and I felt special.

      But, it never helped me make friends, so I figured, what the hell? I was only comfortable when it was braided or I clipped it up in a claw, which kept breaking under the weight of my hair. Stupid cheap things. So, snip-snip, now it's shoulder-ish length and yeah, I love it. Actually I'm thinking about getting another cut, because since December last year, it's actually grown a lot...and I'm starting to shed like mad again. I try to comb it just a little, pull out a fistful. Turns out, nope, that is not for me... It's kind of stressful.

      How did I go all those years pulling hair out of my head? And pulling it out of my pants? I love long hair but it is so not worth it!

      I'm actually thinking maybe a little longer than chin-length, so pigtails or a ponytail would be kind of cute. Maybe not with my mug, but I remember it used to make me feel like a perky waitress. I kind of liked that, too, feeling perky.

...

       A few nights ago, while watching Lucifer, my DVD player crashed on me...again. It normally goes into Standby mode or whatever when you don't interact with it enough, but it didn't do that even after half an hour. I couldn't even shut the TV off. I thought it was dead and I wanted my disk, so I tried breaking it open (and only succeeded in breaking off the cover for the tray) by myself because everyone else was sleeping. Well, this month we had more money than usual, so my brother told me, "You're getting a flat screen that can hook up to Netflix."
      I cannot wait. I mean, I can, because I'm unfortunately patient, but I am excited. I get to watch new shows, new movies, in my bedroom. Which means I can watch the movies that I own but can't see, too! For some reason they have issues so serious that they kill the DVD player. And there's the one DVD that's the wrong region, too; I tried changing my computer settings so I could watch it out here, but of course I need to pay for the DVD program first.

      At least this way I can watch shows I've never seen before, in my bedroom like normal people do. I don't even so much care if my GameCube can't hook up to it, since I never use it anyway (another device that crashes, sometimes 50 times before I can even get into the game, only to have it die when I'm playing it). So, yes, I'm finally excited to be getting an upgrade. Everything I own is from the '70s, '90s at the latest. My flip phone, my TV with its ridiculous antenna and the weight of a boulder... I am so ready for this change!

...

       Guess who's back in the hospital? In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, I do not know why she does not just stay there until she's cured. It's almost as though she wants to waste money on taxis so that she can complain about it. This time, though, she went by ambulance; I was in bed, actually feeling good for once, when the paramedic's voice disturbed me. Naturally when I went back to bed the pain flared up. I'm beginning to think it's arthritis, because my shoulder has been screwed for about a year. It's hard to move, and my back pain can get brutal. Like, hurts-to-breathe, makes-me-sick brutal.

      Anyhow. I expect her to be home in a few days, still puffy and gross. She was so swollen with water retention that she was leaving puddles everywhere. I had to put on Latex gloves I can't even count how many times, and lift her legs up onto the couch. I'm allergic to Latex, so my hand rash came back, and of course she just kept getting heavier. Over 50 pounds of just...swelling. She couldn't help but stomp on the floor. Her arms were getting big, and this is a woman who wouldn't weigh 100 pounds soaking wet (although, I suppose she is now). Her face was getting puffy, she had fluid in her lungs, she'd been dealing with it for over four months. I was afraid her throat or her brain would swell next, or the area all around her lungs would swell and squish them. I was afraid she would burst.

      And she's probably going to bust out of the hospital again. Last time, she called home and said she was being discharged, but the doctors said she was escaping. Too late, the taxi was there to get her home. She spends so much time complaining that she can't live like this anymore, and she does everything in her power to keep on living like it.

      I had a phobia of hospitals from when a nurse ripped my IV out through the tape and sprayed my blood everywhere. I had a phobia from when the radiologist grabbed a handful of my lady parts, but you know what I did when I had my stones? I sat my ass in the chair, smiled at the doctors, told them jokes, and didn't go home until they cleared me. I wasn't enjoying it, but I didn't want to make them regret treating me. They are doctors and nurses; they probably had a hell of a day already. They likely did, because people suck.

      Honestly, she's sitting in a chair, getting taken care of, it's not all that different from home. I do not know how many more times I can lift her off the couch or the toilet without my back breaking; I need her to stay inside. And I think we all need her sisters to not come down here. It's just not a good time for them to come in here and demand attention, pressure us to join them for coffee at a restau-rant, and take unwanted pictures of us. It's not a good time for them to want our advice on where they should sit. It's not a good time for them to say they found a particle of dust and blast us for not doing anything when their homes look like the garbage dump.

      I just want them to stay away. I want all the people who love me to stay away and I want all the people who hate me to talk to me. But because life is such a joke... Here I am. Getting ready to tell my aunts that the person who desperately needs, or will have already had surgery, cannot go to a restaurant! And that we, her caretakers, who need to keep an eye on her, have an ethical obligation to do that.

      God, why are all the adults in my life such children? I guess they never thought that, maybe, we live nine hours away for a reason.

      What I want, is for one thing I want, to happen. It's like the universe is working against me.

      I want to sleep so bad right now. I am so, so, so exhausted. But the pain makes it really not worth it. I'd go for a walk, but the heat would probably kill me. It's around 40 degrees Celsius today; 104 Fahrenheit. Disgusting. I hate the heat, I hate the bugs, I hate dripping. I do not understand people who love summer. Give me a week of rain, give me a blizzard, and I'll be happy. I'll go walking. And I'll still turn my fan on and open my window, guaranteed.

     I'm going to go watch some more Lucifer. Hopefully the DVD player and the disk don't break. My luck...

Post 500

       Wow, halfway to a thousand? Gosh, I'm a nerd. Well, I've heard of going out with a bang, but today started with one. I was sleeping, for once, actually sleeping without pain. A bang woke me―a pretty gentle bump, like when you walk into the table. I was convinced I heard laughter, so I was indecisive about peeking out to check. Until I heard the crying. So I decided, I better at least ask. Turns out, my mother fell (for the second time that night, I learned), cracked her head, arms, ankles, and legs on pretty much every hard surface in the house, and collapsed by the door to cry. (She is going through so much right now; it's not just the falls, don't be ignorant.) I didn't even see her at first, because of the dining table; I just heard her and knew she had to be close.

      Luckily, no blood and very little pain, at least not from the falls. A little redness seems to be the only result. Well, redness and possibly a concussion; afterward, I had her sit, made the porridge and coffee she wanted, but she kept nodding off in her chair, almost falling off. She nearly burned herself by deciding to pick up a candle from the top, I had to snark at her and then she thought it was a good idea to blow it out (candles evidently cut down on cigarette smoke; my brother didn't want her near all those concrete steps in the dark). And, she was blabbering barely-audible nonsense. Some-thing about a nice wall and a wet lake, I don't know. Which is true, lakes are wet. No nice walls in this house, though. Not to mention she "had been pushed by an evil spirit." If I were religious I'd agree; she had been on the couch, suddenly she's on her ass and the couch and coffee table are on different angles. Quite a tumble she must have taken. Little lady actually pushed the couch back all by herself.

      Ah, hell, no one ever reads these. She's severely swollen from the waist down. Each toe looks like two toes and her legs are so dis-tended, they're shiny...and kind of lumpy. There are 40 pounds of swelling and it is getting worse. So I've been worrying that her throat will swell, block her trachea, and she'll suffocate. Now I'm thinking she might have swelling in her brain, causing the confusion.

      I'm also beginning to agree with my brother on having her live in a home. I think she was probably sleepwalking; she used to as a kid, and I certainly find it more plausible than evil spirits. I'd insist on her to text me when shit like this happens, but there's no point. Not only because apparently she won't, but because she doesn't know the difference between my Facebook account and my phone. I'm a dinosaur, okay, I'm happy with my little flip phone that can only make and receive phone calls and texts. Apparently "don't text my face" is too complex.

      Speaking of my Facebook. I have you in my pic, too, now, sis. If you want me to change it back to just me, you're going to have to talk to me.

Whoo!

       I feel good! Not pain-free, I feel like my arse'll fall off. But I finally, finally got my bath in. I was even able to get dressed! Yay! I smell nice...finally. I couldn't do it properly, I couldn't even sit, but it makes a difference for sure. I was legit wondering if I could ever have one again. Yucky!
      Bro seems to be recovering. But my mother seems to be worse. Her face is swelling now, and because the doctors haven't even attempted to drain the fluid, I'm worried her throat will swell up on the inside and block her trachea. She went to the hospital again a few nights ago, she's going today and again tomorrow, and my brother, a giant who may as well be made of metal, is going with her, and I want him to block the door and force the docs to do something. But gosh, I'm just sweet like that.

Health (Or The Lack Thereof)

       So I think I may need back surgery. It's been an issue now for about a year; I went to the hospital months ago and received very little care; 12 hours, one bottle of pills I didn't need to show for it. They didn't even work. So here I am, in complete agony; it took me three hours to sit up, fifteen minutes to stand, and about ten more to put on my slippers. I'm okay if I just don't move or sleep, ever...

      And that's just me. My mother's been in and out of the hospital since before May. They keep having her stay overnight due to serious issues, and then kicking her out before she can recover. And if you're thinking I'm exaggerating about the pills I don't need... Here's what they did for my mother. They gave her erectile dysfunction pills, and for my male cousin, they prescribed estrogen. I mean, why? In what universe does that make sense?

      And now my brother may have a head cold! So all the shit is hitting the fan all at once. Nobody is happy right now, everybody's been crabby and sniping at one another, and now on top of all that, there's a pyromaniac setting fires, possibly city-wide... I actually got to see a bench burn.

      Gah. One thing. One thing that is right. How the hell is that a great expectation? Why can't my brother feel healthy, or my mother get better?

      On the other hand... I am happy that it's my back, and not my kidney again. That's actually nice.

Sound FX

      I recently started playing two new games on Roblox, and right away I noticed something cool; they have sound effects from The Sims games in them. They're not related to the series, so either that one little sound is just similar or it's downright stolen. I'm not going to ask.

      One of the games is a space simulator. On the moon, there's a little dome where you can take off your space suit and eat apples, but if you click on a locked door, it makes the same sound in The Sims 3 games when you try to pick up an object that you can't, or you try to build a wall too close to the edge of the lot.

      The other game is an ocean game that lets you be sharks, whales, little fish, or a penguin. But if you cruise up to the surface, you'll hear a sound that's only heard in The Sims 3 if you happen to have the MultiTab 6000. When you direct your character to listen to a tabcast (which allows them to build skills while doing something else), you'll hear the same voice on every channel, and there's a very distinct "Huh!" sound that also appears in this Roblox game.

      ...It's weird.