Mar. 4th, 2009

shell_mel: (Sign...)
Okay... I'm a little hurt right now.

I have so much love and respect for my father. I have posted a few times about him, so if anyone read those posts they would know I love him.

I'll start from the beginning rather than giving you my ramblings... those will come later.

This morning I asked dad if I could sleep over [livejournal.com profile] cloudy's. He said it shouldn't be a problem but we'll discuss it tonight. We like to discuss things as a family and I love having my parents thoughts on what I'm doing in my life. So I don't mind... that and pushing for an answer would just mean I wouldn't be able to go.

Now before I panic [livejournal.com profile] cloudy or [livejournal.com profile] disxox I am still coming. So don't worry.

So I went about my day... went to Uni. I will actually let everyone know what's happening with that soon. It's so exciting!

Now after dinner I asked again. Can I go? My dad told me to discuss it with mum. I went to mum. She asked why I had to discuss it with her, shouldn't I be talking to dad? I told her what he told me to do. She goes through and asks him what this is about.

After a mini argument due to prior arguments they had had that day my father looked me in the eye and said. "No."

Let me give you the rough conversation.

Dad: No.
Me: Why?
Dad: Where are you going?
Me: To cloudy's.
Dad: And from there?
Me: No where.
Dad: Do you really want to go?
Me: I haven't seen them since before Christmas. If I didn't want to go, I wouldn't be asking.
Dad: Then I'll drop you off. Is that okay?
Me: *Suddenly realizes what dad is implying that we will do* I'm okay with that. But you do know that I'm not comfortable with going out and drinking.

Okay take a small break to notify all friends. I don't mind drinking. In fact I love having a beer. But I am really not comfortable with the idea of going out and drinking. I just barely comfortable with drinking outside my house. Now you know... back to the conversation.

Dad: ...
Me: I'm barely comfortable with drinking outside this house. I don't want to go make an ass of myself if I get drunk. Being drunk in the public eye is something I'm not okay with. I prefer my wits about me when I'm outside this house. So I can tell you know if I went to a friends and they suddenly told me we were going drinking I would have to say no. I have no issue with that. And if they are my friends they will see that I'm not comfortable with that.
Dad: ...
Me: Where did this suddenly come from? You know I'm not a normal teenager. I don't sneak out. I don't go to concerts. I don't binge drink. I ask my parents for permission to go out still! I. Am. 18!
Dad: ...
Me: And just so you know. I've been 18 for nine months. I've had nine months of opportunities to go down to the Bottle-O and get alcohol for my friends. Don't you think I would have done it by now?
Dad: ...
Me: Don't you trust me?
Dad: ...
Me: Can I go?
Dad: ... Yeah.
Me: Thank you.

I have no idea where this has suddenly come from. But it hurt that he doesn't trust me. When I did nothing to deserve that. Mum doesn't understand it either... Well she actually said it's because he's "fucked up in the head". But I know my dad isn't all there sometimes but... normally I can brush off the insults he throws at me. Normally calling me useless, idiotic, a space case and many other things to indicate I'm a loser. Most of the time I let it roll over me and I move on... but every now and again... it sticks.

I thought my father knew me... I guess I was wrong... ;_;

I've been really happy lately. To the point of practically bouncing off the walls. My parents have noticed a change in me. My mum is very happy for me. Glad that I feel this good... but I think dad's jealous. He finds it do hard to look up. I try to help but... well how can his silly, daft daughter help?

Maybe I was better off being gloomy all the time... The laws of physics. Everything that goes up, must come down. At least with me being down I don't have as far to fall.

I'm sorry. Having an emo moment. I'll go bother someone else now.

*Goes and hids in her fantasy world.*
shell_mel: (Laughing)

This is testimony to the fact my dreams are weird and that I have a sick fascination with death. Not to the point where I want to make it happen. Whether that be myself of someone else. Anyway this dream was a couple of nights ago. Here we go:

 

I was someone’s assistant but at the same time I felt she was my friend (from real life). But her face was always faded in my dream so I don't remember who it was. She acted like Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) out of ‘The devil wears Prada’. I had to do all her jobs, chores, drive her around, wait on her hand and foot while she partied and did business.

At one point we were on a cruise. I was on a small lower class tug boat while she was on the big expensive ship. I was with the other assistances. The ships were pretty far apart. One of the assistances tried to swim to the other boat but she disappeared. The water was freezing so she was probably dead. But no one cared or they were too scared to leave the boat without permission.

 Somehow I managed to get on the other ship. The bosses were all in a hot tub, drink as. We had to go or she would be late for a meeting. Since the other assistant died we had to take the assistant-less boss with us. He was male. We went to a red sports car and I got in the front to drive, while they went in the back. I drove them down a very curvy road. In the end I missed the turning and had to go back.

The new road was curvy too but a dirt road. I went round one turning which was similar to a rollercoaster where people are parallel to the ground. On this turning I hit the curve and crashed the car. My boss was not impressed. The other boss disappear, got no idea where he went. A police officer was suddenly there. Saying it wasn't too bad and I'd just get a warning.

Then my dream changed. But the setting was the same. I was still at the accident. But I wasn't an assistant. People, dark figures or shadows, were coming after me. I ran. An alleyway appeared out of nowhere. I ran down it and turned the corner. There were a lot of wooden crates everywhere. Suddenly there was a BANG! And I fell to the ground, some crates falling on top of me. I had been shot. But I was still alive.

Words ran through my head as the figures surrounded me. I think that was there way of talking. The words: Poison, radiation, gun point, strangling, stabbing... I think they were discussing how to finish the job.

Suddenly the dream changed again. The scene was the same though it was obvious there had been a change in time. This was later... but how much later I’m not sure. I was someone else. A black guy here to investigate a murder (my murder I think).

One of the guys on the team was drilling in the pavement. A girl's body (my body) had been chucked the in cement. I (the black guy) had to go into the hole and bag/tag the evidence. I found my lip balm, phone, mirror, a bullet, and some other stuff. Most of it being stuff I use in real life. I was trying to work out what happened to the girl. Suddenly I had an idea. The nerve endings would tell me! (As crazy as that is XD) They were stuck to the cement on the wall of hole. But it more like glitter pens or something. I was trying to read them while I had a feeling the shadows were returning. I looked up at something and suddenly...


I woke up. A cat fight at 6am woke me up... not pleased.


How weird was that? Meaning? I focus too much on death and will result in my own? *shrugs* It got really confusing near the end. I knew I should be me... but I was the black guy.

BTW this amount of detail is normal for my dreams, as is the length. There was actually a whole lot more detail than I can be bother going into. But I’m going to bed. Good night everyone!
 

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August 2009

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