Last Dream Blog.

Fourth Night's Dream:

The Dream: This dream was about Scarlett and I. In the dream, I knew it was a dream, somewhat, but only because I knew it had happened before in a dream. (You must understand that it hasn’t been dreamt before, but the me in the dream had a knowledge of a “past” dream almost like this one.) We were like ghost hunters, but we were witches, and we would drive to people’s houses, make a batch of this green bubbly gloppy stuff, and then reach the soul of the families lost person, in death world which was this swirling world of color usually black and white but sometimes green, and we had to both concentrate very hard, and touch something of theirs, and be in touch with the dead’s soul to reach them and pull them back to the living world. We went to Loren’s house, which is odd because we all went to school together as kids. We talked to the parents, and had cookies, and went to the kitchen to make our stuff. Scarlett did most of that while I kept the family off our backs about non-Christian this and that. They seemed way too interested in the goopy green stuff and it shouldn’t have been looked upon by non-users. I think we drank it, but it was never shown.
We asked the family where the best place to find Loren would have been. First we went outside by his favorite tree, touching a Frisbee he left there. Concentrating very hard on Loren and it wasn’t working. Someone must have been watching us. Sure enough, his little brother came out from behind a tree, and we slapped him away from us and he fell down. We went inside and searched for the right energy. We found it pulling us down the hall and we asked which room was his. They yelled directions but as his mom yelled a door swung open and we ran to that room.
It was a little kid’s room. It had a toy chest in the middle. I said something about this one being the chest. And she shut the doors and looked down to see a magician doll, “The magician doll, yep this is it” and we touched the box, but his brother came bursting in again and scarlett pushed him away, making the little boy cry, as we shut ourselves in the room, and going right back to Loren.
We were almost there; I could see the colors starting to swirl into green. I saw the spiral, and then it was fading, so I thought harder about Loren, and I almost saw his face and it faded out, so I tried again, and it felt like I was trying to dream. And I woke up.


Back one night's dream: http://sdwoflilac.blogspot.com/

All the way back to dream one: www.myspace.com/minginator

Flash Gordon

Why isn't Flash on our currency?

What makes a hero?

That was our topic of discussion today in class as we discussed some semi-interesting naturalist play from the 1890s or something. I'm not sure, I havn't read it yet.

But I know what I consider to be a hero.

I dont think it's possible to just be a hero, because thats like a title, or something that you've achieved, that is recognized by everyone. Yet a person can be a hero to someone they've saved... but not everyone in the world thinks that saving that person should make you a hero.

Therefore, I think the only way to be a hero, is to be somebody's hero.

I hope to be somebody's hero.

Company gimics

First of all, on a Laffy Taffy wrapper, after Halloween, ( a pink one, it looked like an eraser gone stale) I found a cute little joke on the front and the answer under the flap. So, I read the joke. At first, I felt out-smarted by a piece of pink taffy, but then I checked the answer and was sure that they had made a mistake. As my father later said.

"Well... candy can be wrong."

"What creeps and leaches the second story of a haunted house?"
..."Mon-stairs."

"Mon-stairs?"

Perhaps "reaches" would've made more sense than "leaches", because leaching is what coffee does- it's when a liquid percolates through a solid. Stairs don't percolate through anything, they're not a liquid. And even if you are going to stretch leaching to be defined as "leading down to", stairs in a haunted house lead up to, not down to the second floor. Either way, it's a reach.

So, being that I'm hoping somewhere along the line, Willy Wonka hired an editor, who can spell, I'm going to let it go, and throw away the stupid wrapper. Even though I'd love to frame it and hang it in the English office.

Secondly, I was snacking on some Trix, and on the back theres this little riddle about finding one of the guys in a bunch of kids. All these kids are holding onto a rope they lassoed around the silly Rabbit, to keep him from reaching the cereal box. Well, many of them are dressed up. The second part of the riddle is "Can you find the 13 kids who are hanging out and not holding on?" I play along and I count my 13 kids, the slackers. Then it says "can you also find a: baseball player, girl blowing bubbles, koala, elf, pirate, mermaid and two dogs?"

Why, yes, I can see all of these kids. There are also three acrobats with one of the dogs (who is jumping through a firey hula hoop) and i see two cowboys, and four football players, a black kid with too many muscles to be a kid, let me see. ... I also see all of the boys being something cool and there only being two girls dressed up and they're a mermaid and a girl blowing bubbles ( who i swear was a boy) the boys get to be all these great funny characters, trapeze artists, cowboys, pirates, scuba divers, elves, baseball players, and only one girl is really dressed up, and she's a mermaid. Obviously we are not teaching our daughters that they can be anything they want to be like we are so aptly teaching our sons, but also, Why are we telling girls they can be mermaids when the boys actually get to be football players and cowboys if they want?
Why can't someone pick a side on this god damn humanistic approach our education system has annexed, and either teach all the kids they can be what they want ( with work, and even then, that failure is inevitable for some) or that they can pretend to be things when they're young but when they get older,

to get a life and not play with Trix boxes anymore.