stuff and junk and stuff
Mar. 28th, 2004 03:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maradyddYup, I'm still here. I spent most of last week being some combination of sick and preoccupied. Between that, I saw Spartan and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (two thumbs up for both), and I got roadworthy tires put on my bike (as opposed to the mudworthy tires that had been on it before). If it isn't raining on Tuesday, I'll bike to school.
Not much going on beyond that. I had a short but interesting dream last night.
For some reason which had not been explained to me, the world had a whole lot fewer people in it; this had been the case for quite some time, and I was not particularly surprised by it. I was making my way through a heavily wooded subdivision of mostly abandoned houses. Thick vines, which looked like ivy but grew like kudzu, had twined through broken windows and over people's driveways, carpeting the ground and obscuring everything but the shape of the buildings.
I was carrying a load of beat-up paperback books (I knew in the dream that I had recovered them from an abandoned church, though I didn't see the church in the dream), and before long I came to a steep terra cotta staircase leading down a hill, still covered in trees and vines. Managing the books wasn't exactly easy. "Need a hand?" came a voice, and I looked over and saw a man with dark, curly hair, standing on the hillside, up to his ankles in vines. (He looked nothing like any of the men with dark curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
delavagus or Shannon WINOLJ, nor any of the men with light curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g. ti94.) "Thanks," I said, and shifted some of the books to him. Slowly, we made it down the staircase, and then up the other side. When we got to the top of the hill, in front of us was a wide concrete plaza, terraced with a few steps up and down; at the far end of it there seemed to be a movie theatre. A few people I knew, including martian_bob and CryptoGeekBoi, stood by a railing near the theatre entrance.
"I appreciate the help," I told the guy with the curly hair, and handed him one of the books to keep (it might have been a copy of Atlas Shrugged, but I'm not sure). "But I should go see my friends." There was a deep sense of regret as I said it, but I didn't acknowledge it openly. I walked off, and the dream faded out.
Lately I've found myself getting more used to the idea of being alone, or at least not having someone around all the time, or at least not having someone around as much as I might like. I guess this is a good thing.
Not much going on beyond that. I had a short but interesting dream last night.
For some reason which had not been explained to me, the world had a whole lot fewer people in it; this had been the case for quite some time, and I was not particularly surprised by it. I was making my way through a heavily wooded subdivision of mostly abandoned houses. Thick vines, which looked like ivy but grew like kudzu, had twined through broken windows and over people's driveways, carpeting the ground and obscuring everything but the shape of the buildings.
I was carrying a load of beat-up paperback books (I knew in the dream that I had recovered them from an abandoned church, though I didn't see the church in the dream), and before long I came to a steep terra cotta staircase leading down a hill, still covered in trees and vines. Managing the books wasn't exactly easy. "Need a hand?" came a voice, and I looked over and saw a man with dark, curly hair, standing on the hillside, up to his ankles in vines. (He looked nothing like any of the men with dark curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g.
delavagus or Shannon WINOLJ, nor any of the men with light curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g. ti94.) "Thanks," I said, and shifted some of the books to him. Slowly, we made it down the staircase, and then up the other side. When we got to the top of the hill, in front of us was a wide concrete plaza, terraced with a few steps up and down; at the far end of it there seemed to be a movie theatre. A few people I knew, including martian_bob and CryptoGeekBoi, stood by a railing near the theatre entrance."I appreciate the help," I told the guy with the curly hair, and handed him one of the books to keep (it might have been a copy of Atlas Shrugged, but I'm not sure). "But I should go see my friends." There was a deep sense of regret as I said it, but I didn't acknowledge it openly. I walked off, and the dream faded out.
Lately I've found myself getting more used to the idea of being alone, or at least not having someone around all the time, or at least not having someone around as much as I might like. I guess this is a good thing.
