Twelve

I wrote another story the other day. It's this cute love story, but I wrote it down nicely on this sheet of paper and it looks super nice and stuff and since it's not next to me right now, it's not getting on here.

Speaking of paper, I found this really depressing website on water use: http://environment.nationalgeographic.com/environment/freshwater/embedded-water/

So I just remembered about this story that I've been wanting to write about a person who goes to sleep at night and their dream world is a parallel universe. Basically that's all I've gotten in it because I haven't really thought about it too much. Well I've thought about it to the point where I can't decide if the parallel world is practically an apocalyptic world that appears like it does now but without people or if people should be there. And then I start to not care if it's either and then I stop thinking about it. The problem is also with the plot since there isn't one yet and I keep thinking of things but it would really depend on the population of the parallel world I guess. I've been thinking that the person just dies because they aren't getting enough sleep. There's another scenario where the person dies in one world, probably the parallel one and they either don't go back to this "same dream" or they travel to the parallel universe's afterlife. This recent idea of the afterlife is sounding more interesting and I'm actually thinking about pursuing it. So now I need a beginning point.

My other story had an afterlife in it too. It's more comical than this probably.

Chapter One

It was time to sleep again. I think about my day as I wash my face and brush my teeth. I didn't eat breakfast, went to class, had lunch, went to more class, went to the gym with Yolanda [name has been changed], had dinner, did homework, watched a movie, and now it's nearly midnight and time to go to sleep.
I've actually never understood the term sleep. For other people, from what I've been told, they go to bed and then are able to shut their eyes, feel like a short time passes, and wake up the next morning, sometimes having dreams, other times not having dreams. I've been told it can be refreshing. I guess that makes me not normal.
I don't dream like normal people do in the normal sense of dreaming. My sleep is a seven to ten hour day in another dimension. It's like a parallel world. People look the same with eyes, noses, mouths, cheeks, ears, hair, arms, legs, whatever. There are cars, paved roads, doctors, grocery stores, department stores, malls, dogs, cats, plants, mines, garbage dumps, rain forests, and even a Starbucks (or four huddled around the same intersection) just like the world you know. It seems to look the same. Here though, there are a lot less people, especially less elderly people. The only difference about here is that there isn't really such a thing as a hospital. I mean there is, but it's quite pessimistic. It's actually more of a place where you get a full body check-up. There are even dentists there. They're health care too, you know... Anyways, this hospital can't, or won't, I'm not sure, cure your terminal disease. They won't try to bring back a body without a heartbeat, cure chicken pox, or remove a tumor. I suppose it's possible the human race will live longer there without the imminent threat of a supervirus and there's generally less people there polluting the planet. Unsurprisingly, I've had a lot of friends there die.

I'm actually tired now, in real life so it will continue soon most likely.

Nine

20 April 2010

Last Tuesday was one of the worst days of my life. School sucked. I went over to my boyfriend's house. I had absolutely no fun. It was 4-20 so he smoked which pissed me off. I had to suffer through my mom's house for extra morning hours of death. And after school at my boyfriend's I couldn't feel anything. I don't know if I've ever had a more miserable time with him. It really freaked me out actually. And then I started to question myself--Do I really love him... etc. That question has been stuck in my mind. The more I think about it the less I can feel it. That in turn makes me sad and stressed. Add a big project and some PMS into the mix and you have a seriously hormonal person. Whatever. That day it felt like something was wrong. So I'm about to leave to go visit with my great grandma since my great grandpa is on his deathbed and my grandma calls me and tells me he died that afternoon. Is it weird that my body knew it before my head did?

I saw my great grandma cry that day. And I made a bad joke saying they're killing me at school with all the homework they give out... I've always thought that people didn't think before they spoke but that just came out and as I walked down the stairs I was talking out loud trying to console myself. It failed. I'm still so embarrassed from that. I've been trying not to think about it.

I went over to my boyfriend's house to apologize to his mom for being rude. She was trying to talk to me while my grandma was telling me that my grandpa died and i shushed her rather harshly. I brought her eggs. We drank tea and I talked about my dad and his alcoholism and how my grandma is really cool and she saw the future in her dreams when she was small blah blah blah. I also learned quite a bit about her. She kept (or still does) a journal. She told me why she joined the air force. She told me how much in love her husband is with her (or used to be).

Side note: on Friday I saw my boyfriend's dad nearly scream at him and looking so angry like he was going to beat him. His mom has absolutely no control over that and I felt invisible.

Back: She said while she lived in Germany he wrote her a letter a day for two years. She's convinced her son is that crazy about me but I'm not so sure. Every time this comes up I feel like it's just a self-pity party. It's miserable. Nearly every day I look at him and think he doesn't love me. Every day he tells me I'm stupid for thinking this. I think either he will get annoyed with it so bad he'll break up with me or just stop trying to convince me and I'll convince myself he doesn't and feel even more miserable.

I keep saying I'm miserable and I'm not. Yesterday was awesome. I went over to his house in the morning and we had our own little make-out sesh on his bed. The same after school. And school didn't suck. I'm convinced it was because I had a decent breakfast. I never eat a good breakfast really.

I woke up at 6:07 this morning in a freak out that I didn't turn on my alarm. So I had to get out of bed in the middle of my dream and turn it on since it's across the room. It was a bright light by then which was strange I guess just since when I've woken up then during the winter it's been dark. It doesn't even matter. I was having a dream when I woke up:

We heard that my grandpa died. We went to see how my grandma was doing up at the farm. We walked through the house to the sitting room and out the back window beyond the goat pen we could see this war going on. Everyone had bayonets and was wearing gray uniforms with yellow tassels and riding horses. I went out to see. I started walking down this dirt road to get closer to the battlefield and my grandma said that this amazing horse was about to come along. So I stood there in the middle of the road and waited. All sorts of animals were running past me--dogs, cats, deer, horses--all of them were black in color. Then this red stallion that looked like a cartoon started charging at me and passed me. I turned around to get a better look and all I could see was my grandparent's house.