In the real world, as in dreams...*

[bending_sickle]

...nothing is quite what it seems.*

After weeks and weeks of near coma-like sleep - where you hardly move all night and wake up feeling like the dead - I finally had a dream. The wierdest thing is that it doesn't feel like my own dream-style, and I'm having a hard time getting used to the fact that it actually is my dream. Mainly because the self-awareness is so strong. It is me, thinking what feel like me-thoughts, not someone else whose pov we're exploring.

I'm in a nice little bedroom. It's small, with white walls and closed curtains. It's mid-afternoon and the sun is shining in through the cracks in the curtain to the right of the bed. (Later on, the window moves to wall behind the bed, and the curtains are drawn, reveleang a large green field where people are playing.)

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning on the wooden railing, cock-sure of myself despite this not being my room. In front of me is a man very like Mohinder Suresh (of Heroes), maybe younger. It's obvious we're lovers, and painfully obvious I'm the one in control. He's still got that smiling, bumbling-puppy aura, though tarnished somewhat by the kicks I'm sure I've dealt him.

I strip and lay casually on the bed, swaddeling my legs in a dark blue kikoi. The sheets had been considerately turned down prior to my arrival.

But he doesn't join me. Instead, he turns and puts a few useless things away. Turning back to face me, he laughs and I'm shocked to the core at how hard-hearted it sounds, and how hard-hearted he looks.

"I'm just doing this to be out of the heat."

I sit up and lean against the footboard and turn the cold-bitch mode on. And it's so much colder than his. "I don't know if I like fucking you, but I don't like being with you." Or maybe I tell him I do like fucking him. Either way, it's just sex and that's what I'm using him for.

Or, well, at least that's what I want to say, because he doesn't hear me the first time. He asks me to repeat myself, and something breaks inside me. I tear up, choke up and look away, because the fact is I do like something about our arrangement.

Wowza, I like how I wrote that.

My other dream was about my finding a laptop-which-is-really-a-vaccuum in the closet and my not being able to shut it off. See, that's more my style.

***
After two months of being berated about it by my mother and promising myself I would, I finally called my uncle and asked him to mail/scan my last cellphone bills. I did see the total sum taken out of my account - and it was shockingly horribly large - leaving my account in the negatives. While I did use it a lot in the Netherlands, and those roaming calls are expensive, what I think did the trick is that fucking stupid shortcut. Like with many phones, you could surf the net (I guess - I never got the hang of it, not that I tried). Apparently, the phone had a shortcut to get you to browsing. One wee night, I set my alarm with my phone as usual. I woke up a few hours later and tried to check the time on it. Only instead of the time I got, "Do you want to stop browsing?" I have no bloody clue how the damn thing started surfing - I always keylock and I don't even know which key is the shortcut - but that means that the phone was linked to the internet, paying long-distance fares, for hours. Ergo, bank account vampire-suck. */rant*

My uncle also asked me whether I'd made friends, if I went out a lot evenings and so forth. It was painfully depressing how much I had to lie about all of that.

And of course, mom called and started shouting hysterically again - and again, like she has over the past month - about how they're not made of money and what a waste I am and how I have no friends and aren't going anywhere. I hate that she's so hung up on my making friends. Yes, I'd like them too, but please don't yell at me about it. And for fuck's sake stop telling me who it'd be convenient for me to be friends with. And what the fuck does my not having friends do to all the money invested in my education? Does not compute.

She didn't ask how I was, and I didn't tell her I've been breaking down into tears all week. She didn't ask me how school was going, and I didn't tell her I was paralyzed with terror about internships.

I really don't want to go home for Christmas.

***
Mom sent me this list of world university rankings. My alma matter is in the top 15, and yet the Spanish Ministry of Education does not acknowledge my BSc., (after over a year and a half of documents, redoing of documents and wtf-letters) mainly because it's a 4-year and not 5-year program. They also complained I haven't done any Ecology (three courses) or botany (so did). What this means is that, without a Masters, if I ever want to study or work in Spain in Biology, I need to redo my Bachelor's. Fuuuuck yoooouuu, Ministry of Education.

projectdownload - - What is this?
Links of the Day:
This post by ursulav makes her readers go absolutely insane looking for her fanfic name. They go so far as to make a community, pinklizards. All those discovering her fanfic are honour-bound to ne'er disclose it. Half of the fun is in the journey. (Well, I say fun, but I mean frustration.)
L-Space Wiki for TPratchett's works
Water torture: There's not just way of doing it, apparently.


* Dean Koontz, in The Book of Counted Sorrows, which may actually exist now.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

sweetie, that all sounds terrible.

i wish families weren't so stressy. it's not like yelling at you is going to help any. i hate how people think that not having friends is some sort of sick choice we make, instead of the circumstances we find ourselves in. it's hard making friends.

are you at least happier than you were when you were in spain?

*hugs you tight*

love
kit-kat

[blizzardcake.livejournal.com]

Wow, I really like the way you wrote about your dream :) I have a vivid image in my head of what it could look like~

And *huggs* about the family issues, I can sympathize... Lately my fam (especially aunts and mom) keep on pointing out that I shouldn't wait too long to get a boyfriend (as if this I had a choice about the matter! bah humbug).

wOOt about McGill being 12th! Hopefull this will be of some help for my international applications :S

[bending-sickle.livejournal.com]

Yeah, they talk as if there were some sort of social market out there. As if, if only we wanted to, we'd find a guy. Bah-humbug, I tell you. *opens smutty fanfic folder instead*