Thursday, Feb. 02, 2006: 10:33 a.m.
I�ve been tired all the time lately. And remember that I said I had the weird dream about killing Brad Pitt the other night? Okay, well the past few nights have been no exception. I keep dreaming about having sex with people who are total assholes and I know that they are assholes or I have sex with them anyway. If I don�t take too long to write this entry, I�m going back to bad to see what becomes of it.
Warning: Uber-Weird and Full of Sex. Also, this is really long, so don�t start reading unless you have plenty of time.
The night before last I dreamt that I was in Wilmington and I was doing community service at some homeless shelter that a lot of drug addicts went to for food. Well I was working, working, working, nothing was important in this dream. Anyway, I noticed that Sean was there. I couldn�t stop paying attention to the fact that he was eating at this place for coke and heroin addicts and he was grotesquely thin. After work, I followed him to see where he was going if he was homeless. Every night he would pickpocket to get some money and go buy coke and then just go snort it and pass out in some alley. Well one night I bought some chloroform and snuck up behind him to knock him out. I put him in my car, took the coke out of his pocket and took him back to my house. I locked him in the basement where he was still passed out. I decided to take him off of coke all by myself. I went in the next morning with a bowl of soup and went down to the basement. He was awake and all jittery. He realized who I was and got all excited and was trying to hug me and it was really awkward, but I was just happy that he remembered who I was, so I hugged him back. We were hugging for a long time and he was all shaky and weird. I was still holding the soup. After he finally let me go I put the soup down for him to eat. He looked at it for a second and then back at me and asked if I had anything else for him. I asked him what he meant. He told me that he didn�t know how he had gotten here or where he was, but his �stuff� was gone. I asked what it looked like. He started to describe it and I guess I made a face and he figured out that I had it. �Where is it, Stephie?� I didn�t say anything. He noticed that I had left the door to the house open and he stopped jittering. I looked back behind me to see what he was looking at and he got up and ran for the stairs. I chased him up the steps and as he got to the door, I grabbed his foot and he fell. I ran past him, back into the house and locked the door. I sat in front of it and started crying and he was, like, beating on the door and screaming. He wasn�t screaming about the fact that I locked him in my basement but about the fact that I had taken his coke away. He kept screaming that he needed it and I didn�t know what I was doing. I kept sitting there crying for some time, I�m not sure how long. Everyday, I would open the door and put some food on the top stair and then shut and lock the door again. After a few days, I went in with a plate of food and something in my pocket. This time, I didn�t leave it on the stair; I went down into the basement. He was leaning against the wall, all jittery. I put the tray of food down in front of him. He looked at it, back at me, and then away. �That�s not what I need,� he said. �I know,� I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a little vile of coke. He gotten a whole package of it that I had kept hidden in my house and I was going to wean him off, so this was just a little bit. I opened it and poured it on the bit of skin between my thumb and index finger. I put my hand up to him to snort it. He looked it at it for a few seconds and then back at me. �That�s not what I need,� he said. I started to put it back in the vile, but he stopped me and snorted it anyway. I got up and started back towards the stairs. I stopped and decided to say something and when I turned around, he was standing right behind me. �That�s not what I need.� He grabbed me and kissed me. At first I was kissing back, but then I shoved him off of me. He knocked me down and said, �I know what you need.� And at that, he whipped it out. I sat there for a second trying to figure out what to do when he pounces on me. Mind you, I am full clothed, wearing pants, not a skirt. So he is trying to take my pants off and I am rolling back and forth, trying to get him off of me. I am looking around trying to find something, anything to hit him with. I reached into my pocket, grabbed the vile, broke it on the ground and stabbed in him in the shoulder. He started screaming and grabbing at it. I crawled out from under him and ran back into the house and locked the door. Later that day, I went back in there with some stuff to mend the wound. He was just kind of laying on the floor. He looked over at me. He was holding the broken, bloody vile in his hand. I walked down the stairs and over to him. He stayed on the ground, but held up the vile as if he was going to stab me with it. I kicked it out of his hand and stepped on his hand. He started to yell, but I told him to shut up and he listened. I sat on the floor and took his shirt off and started wiping the wound. He sat up and sat still so I could mend it. I wrapped it and just kind of sat there with him for a minute. �It�s no use fighting me,� I said. �I have the things you need and I can take care of you better than you can take of yourself.� I pulled another vile of coke out of my pocket, poured it on my hand like before and gave it to him. He took it without hesitation this time and I put the empty vile back in my pocket. �You�re too weak to fight me right now; and there is no reason to.� With this I started unbuttoning my shirt. He started to say something, I�m not sure what it was, but I shushed him and I put my finger up to his mouth. �Don�t say anything. I don�t want you to say my name, or thank me, or anything� just shut up.� And we started making out and it evolved into crazy silent sex.
No details. I woke up after that. So that was the night before last.
Well last night I dreamed that it was the future� I just realized how silly that sounded, but whatever (and Andrew, if you read this, I�m sorry that you were so warped in this dream). Now everyone I know that was in this dream was the same age that they are now, but it was, like, the year 2300. We weren�t way more advanced than we are now� well in some ways yes, in other ways, no, but that�s not important. What�s important is hockey. For some reason or another, hockey is all the hullabaloo in the future. I was a famous hockey player and one of maybe four chicks in the entire league. I was the only chick on my team. Well I kind of had thing for this guy named Andrew (who is a real person). We weren�t dating, but we both seemed to have a thing for each other. Well we had this big hockey game. Our teams were rivals and we had a game against each other. Both of us were the best players on our team. The league was always trying to figure out a way to get me kicked off of my team, because I�m a chick. Also, games could go on for days. And no one wears helmets, but no one manages to take any hits to the face. Don�t ask. So it�s the day of the big game and things are getting aggressive, as they do in hockey. Well during one of many breaks, we go back to the locker room and we are watching the news, because it�s the only thing people watch in the future, so it�s what everyone is watching during the breaks, including the audience. Well on the news it is announced that Andrew is the main suspect in this child molestation case. Apparently a bunch of little boys are being raped and killed. WEIRD AND GROSS, I KNOW. Anyway, we get back to the game and no one in the audience believes what is being said about Andrew. In fact no one believes it at all. Now I don�t believe it, but I don�t totally dismiss it like everyone else. Everyone else still loves Andrew. Well it�s getting relatively close to the end of the game and the teams are tied. (Remember, me and Andrew are the best on our teams). Well he comes over to me on the side of the rink. I am hanging out in the box. I go up to the edge to talk to him. Well we start talking and I ask him if any of it is true and out of no where, he turns into a total douche-bag-freak and starts talking about the looks on the kids� faces and how they looked like mine was going to when he ripped off my uniform and screwed me on the ice. Out of no where, I got this super strength and I jumped up into the air and kicked him in the chest (mind you, I was wearing ice skates). This didn�t stab him, but hurt him enough to take him out of the game. He fell over and his team started coming towards our side and my team grabbed me from going into the rink and causing more damage. I was screaming as his team was picking him and mine was holding me back. �You go to hell, Andrew McKay! You go to hell and you burn!� So both teams started fighting. Once it all got resolved, I was kicked out for the remainder of the game and he was out because I had taken him out. I went into the back, away from crowds and teams and I saw Andrew. I was sitting on a bench and he sat next to me. Neither of us said anything. We both just sat there in our full uniforms, holding on to hockey pucks and listened to the crowds above us. There was no way to tell which team had just scored, but neither of us cared. �You realize that my career is over,� he said. �You realize that you deserve it because you are a grotesque freak,� I retorted. We sat in silence for a little bit. �I know,� he said. �But you�re still a fun guy,� I said. ��oh goddamnit.� I grabbed him by his jersey and started making out with him, regardless of the fact that he was a fucking child rapist. I stopped and he was looking at me like, �wtf, mate?� He started to say something, but just like the Sean, coke addict dream, I shushed him. �No excuses. Just shut the fuck up, if I think about it, I won�t do.� So we made it, which turned into screwing and I woke up.
What the fuck? Why am I having these crazy dreams lately? I mean, I blamed the Brad Pitt one on my cold, which makes sense; but my cold has gone away and I am still having these wacky ass dreams. WTF?!
Snort the mooncrack.
MOONCRACKHEAD AND AWAY!
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