teary this morning again, and great hugs from mysamurai on the bus come quite in handy. i am confused a bit about why i am still sad, but i suppose i just have to let the sad run its course. i am not partial to this sadness with no reason. grr.

Laying on the bathroom floor
Kitty licks my cheek once more
And I
I could try
But waking up is harder when you wanna die�

last night i dreamt:

i am trying to sleep, and tossing and turning in the bed. i itch. i reach to the back of my neck and scratch. i scratch at my arms and legs. i sit up in my bed and see tiny fruit-fly-ish insects teeming along my arms, all over my skin. i scratch/swat them on my arms, legs, back.

i flip around on the bed screaming, tearing at the insects all over my body. some of the insects are larger than the others, �i pull a fist full of spiders with pinky-nail sized bodies off of the back of my neck, i feel them crawling around in my hair.

there is nothing to do but crush the spiders in-between my fingertips, mush them up, palm to palm.

ick.

and a second dream:

i am somehow in a situation that reminds me of something from the cast of friends,� as a tall and lanky man living in an apartment building. my floor has four apartments, three married couples and me, and we are all great friends � hanging out constantly. there are different scenes of sorts, involving borrowing hair dryers and late night heart to hearts. it is a safe place, secure.

the next day my wife moves in to my apartment. the apartment is a little cramped, having only one bedroom with interesting glass paneled cabinets built in to the walls. we sit on my, now our, twin bed and relax after a day of moving boxes and unpacking.

this is when i pull out the huge and stuffed gym bag. i have been collecting some gifts for my wife and our relationship ever since the engagement�i put the bag on the bed in-between us and unzip. i start pulling out the items, showing them to her, piling them toward her on the bed. i pull out a pair of black, elevated stiletto, vinyl thigh-high boots, in her size of course � a few sets of handcuffs � leather restraints � three flails of various materials � leather gloves � �

at this point she has shimmied away from the pile so far that she is almost falling off the side of the bed. i look at her, horrified, and realize that she never knew me at all. she stands up, collects her purse and keys, and walks out the door � shutting it firmly behind her. she is not coming back.

*sigh*

anxiety dreams. scary.

yesterday i went to lunch with mojo. we asked to sit downstairs when we got the fuck&fondle restaurant, so we could have a little privacy. they explained that no one else is downstairs, then looked at my face�tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably, runny nose and pouty pouty lips. Oh! �and they sat us downstairs.

heh.

and while we talked, there was a tv playing videos. one of them was some sort of janetjackson video in which she is playing with spiders and sends them (through her mouth�eww) to attack a man she seems to be upset with. there was no sound, happily, so i have no idea what really went on. sometimes it is fun to be able to pinpoint where nightmares come from. i�ll have to stop pissing off janet.

HA!

and conversation with my bootyboi last night...future talks, what to figure out, when to move, what to do. we are solid, rock. we are strong.

we will get through this.