Nothing really to write about ... Just dreams. Dreams First dream: I'm standing in this indoor arboretum, around all of these trees - and I'm just walking around the path in them all. I'm wearing this dark grey, long-sleeved shirt, and I'm cold ... I want a jacket, even though I know that to everyone else, it's not cold at all where I am. I feel so tired, so very very tired, and I'm hugging myself, chewing on my left sleeve. I have no voice; it's completely gone. I'm sore, all over, I'm so so sore, especially in my torso - I feel as though I've been broken in two and sloppily super-glued back together. But most of all, I feel heartbroken ... and alone. I don't know how long I was there, but it feels like a long time - just staring at the ground, at the roots that broke the mosiac path. But I hear this voice behind me, and I turn to look, and it's Niveus. She comes toward me. I don't know if I really want to talk to her. Something about her makes my heart sink - I think it's because she's leaving. I'm filled with all these doubts - like I'm not sure if it's really her. I'm afraid that everything I've seen in dreams has just been some sort of fabrication and falsehood of my subconscious - things I want, things I want to happen, and things I fear ... like maybe she was just there because I wanted her to be there ... because I was alone, because I loved her so much and wanted to be with her ... but I was so afraid of what the outcome of this meeting would be. I'm afraid that she'll say that the only reason I love her, is because I feel so alone. It's not true. I love her because I love her ... but I don't think she sees that, or believes that ... and that's what breaks my heart. If she doesn't love me, she could just say so ... instead of accusing me of such things ... it would keep my heart from breaking as badly. She grabs my arms and she's talking. I don't remember exactly what was said ... but I was happy she was there ... I was just on the brink of tears. I know she's telling me something important, but I can't remember now. I just remember thinking about how much I love her, and how much I'm going to miss her ... because I'm worried that someone's going to take her away and I'll never see her again. She's just talking, and I'm just staring at her ... I remember her being upset that I'm not talking to her. She keeps asking my why I won't talk to her. I want to tell her, that I don't have a voice, but she has a hold of my arms, so I can't motion or anything. I'm thinking that maybe if I stare at her long enough, she would understand how I feel ... And suddenly I just ... kiss her. I wanted her to know how I felt ... it wasn't a passionate or deep kiss, but rather a soft, modest one ... I just want her to know that I forgive her, for everything, and that I love her ... so much ... just a soft kiss. But I guess she didn't like it. She pulls away from me and just stares at me for a moment - doesn't even say anything. She lets go of my arms and just walks out, leaving me there. Alone. So alone. So broken. And I try so hard to hold back the tears. But if it makes her happy to go ... then ... so long as she's happy. I guess that it's just selfish of me to want her to stay. My fears were manifesting in the dream ... ... I walk out, too ... I don't see her, but I try to find someone else ... a friend or someone ... Next thing I know, I'm holding a cup of coffee - but it's not mine, it's for someone else - and I'm peeking into this large room that's full of people ... with maps and computers. It looks like some kind of military headquarters or something. I sneak in, and a few of the people turn around and look at me, but I don't pay any attention to them, even though one of them says "is that him?" I'm trying to find someone - and I do. I find Cris. He's standing at this table, with this map ... like they're playing Risk or something ... And I set the cup of coffee next to his left hand, and look up at him. I want to smile for him, but I can't get it to come out. And when he looks at me, he can tell. I want a hug ... so badly ... but I know that he's busy. And suddenly, I know that he's going away, too. He has things to do ... and he wants me to stay where I am because it's safer that way. He'll be back, I know ... but I'll still be alone during that time ... I just stare at him ... I keep staring at him. I want him to stay ... so badly. But I should let him go. It really is selfish of me to want to keep him here, to keep anyone away from being happy ... just so I could not be alone. He starts talking to the people again, and suddenly it's like I'm invisible. My hand reaches up to touch his arm ... but it stops, and just drops ... and I walk out again - just not letting the tears fall yet. I glance over my shoulder, though, to glance back at him, maybe ... kind of inwardly hoping that he might, by some slim chance, turn around and follow me ... maybe even hug me ... but no ... he keeps on talking, sipping on his coffee. And I just walk out. Next thing I know, I'm on this pier, facing this sea or ocean. Sitting there, alone, on the rail and staring down at the water. The water is a long, long way down. If I should fall, the impact alone would kill me. And for a minute, I actually swell on the thought of jumping off. Kill myself, kill the loneliness ... made sense. But I could never do it. I'd promised my lovely that I would take care of the baby when it's born ... so I just stare at the water. And I hear someone walk up and stand beside me, lean against the rail. I look, and it's a guy that looks almost exactly like me. His name is Mark. Strange, isn't it? Rhymes with Larc ... my name. How odd. He doesn't like me though ... or, at least, he wants to hate me ... and he plays it off as hate by being mean and spiteful toward me and showing agression and disapproval to everything I do. I want him to like me, I really do, but I don't know why he hates me so much. He says something about how he didn't know why I was beating myself up so much, that being alone wasn't the end of the world. And said something along the lines of, "everyone fucking loves you. It's only a matter of time before you start to love one of them back." I don't know how to tell him that I don't want to love anyone else ... but he just walks away. And I'm alone again. That's all I remember. Second Dream: Mature Content!!! Mature Content!!! Mature Content!!! I'm in a dark bedroom. I've just been left alone by a nurse or someone who had cleaned me up and put new bandages on my stomach and chest. I have stitches from where bullets went in. I'm just wearing a robe - not a bathrobe, but a houserobe, I think they're called. It's this grey fleece ... I just stand in the middle of the room, hugging the robe around me ... alone ... again. I want to get out ... so I can find someone, anyone ... I don't want to be alone ... I just don't want to be alone. And I start toward the door. And then this guy opens it, and he's sillhouetted by the bright hall light. He's so muscular and tan ... he's ... chizzled? That might be a good word for it. He looks rugged. I've never seen him before, but I know him from somewhere. He's sweaty/shiny. And since I know him, I want him to stay so I stare at him - still without a voice. He comes in and locks to door. I was wondering why he locked the door ... Says he knows what I want, and that he'll keep me company if I do something for him. At this moment, I'm willing to do anything. Except that ... He wanted the two of us to undress and get under the covers and kiss ... and I just ... gave him this look that said that I didn't want to have sex ... and he said "No sex. I promise." So I agreed ... I'm so dumb ... so so dumb. Naked, under the covers ... I'm on top ... I kiss him. Repeatedly. On his lips, all over his face, his torso, his shoulders, arms, neck, stomach. He likes it. I start to hurt ... my stomach, it starts to hurt, so I stop for a minute, and sit up - but he touches my chin and brings me back down, telling me not to stop, and kisses me again. He tastes salty ... like Evan used to taste salty ... and for a moment, I'm reminded of Evan, and I want so badly for him to be Evan ... so badly. I kiss him more and more ... I put more into it - I don't know what I was thinking ... that maybe I might bring him back if I tried hard enough ... I don't know. I can feel the man's penis get hard. And I don't really care, you know ... those things happen, and he did promise no sex. His arms leave me and go there, and I think it's okay ... you know? It's okay for him to jack off ... because he'd promised he wouldn't fuck me. But I smell lotion ... and I stop, looking at him as he puts his hands on me again. And I suddenly know ... and try to get away - but he grabs my arms and rolls me over, pushing me down into the bed. But he'd promised ... he had promised. And he grins wickedly at me and says "I lied." I try to scream, but no sound comes out ... I try again and again to scream ... but nothing. And it hurts, so much, as he shoves it in me ... so so much ... again and again and again. And he grabs my neck, like he's trying to strangle me. And I can't breathe ... And that's when I wake up. Last dream: It's sunset. I'm sitting alone, at the desk in that dark bedroom ... with a notebook and a pencil. I'm wearing clothes now. Just a pair of these big black sweatpants and a dark grey hoodie that's way too large for me. I'm mainly wearing it for the hood - because I have it over my head and tied ... so that it will hide the marks on my neck ... the bruises ... the strangle marks. I'm writing in this notebook all of these names. Names of people and descriptions of them and what they can do ... I'm doing this, because I want to be helpful, I want to contribute, want to help in some way ... and I'm using my third eye to watch for people that would be beneficial to our cause ... it's definitely my chicken scratch handwriting, I know that much. One of the names starts with an A ... and all of the names have at least three lines describing them. I'm about to use my eye again to find someone else ... but then the tanned, muscular man from earlier comes in to the room. He doesn't look friendly anymore ... in fact, I won't even look to him. He just comes in and tells me dinner is on the way and that I should go to bed - he doesn't even smile - he just takes the list from me, slams the door closed and locks it. I just feel so empty ... so lonely ... and I don't know why they won't let me out of my room. Then I hear something at the window, and I turn to look ... and there's a hand ... there's someone there. So I go, and open it, and try to look past the screen to the ledge - I'm on the second story. And there's Mark, staring up at me, he wants in ... I think he's being looked for. I'm afraid he'll be seen so I start to unscrew the screen as best I can. I get the bottom undone and shove it open as wide as it will go and he climbs in. I immediately close the screen and start to screw it shut again. I even give him a small smile as I'm doing that - just happy to have someone with me, I guess ... even if he did hate me. But then I knew someone was coming, so I look at him and point to under the bed ... so he'll hide ... And the second he gets under there, the muscular man comes back and sets a dinner plate on my desk, tells me to eat and go to bed ... and that he'll see me in the morning. He kisses me but I don't kiss back .. and then he locks me in again. Mark comes out from under the bed ... and somehow, I have a feeling that I'm used to seeing him under the bed. I just give him another little smile. I wamt so badly for him to like me ... I do. But he unties my hoodie and shoves it off my head, pointing at the marks on my neck, and he hisses at me "What is that? What is that?" And I just look at him. And suddenly, it's like he throws me to sit on the bed, grasping my wrists painfully tight and he hisses at me, whispering, like he knows everything that's happened. He tells me that I deserved it ... all of it. That I am pathetic and weak and that I should have known better. Tells me I am an idiot for thinking that the guy wouldn't fuck me. Tells me that if I didn't want it to happen, then I shouldn't have done it - and it wouldn't have happened. And he's right. And I feel like shit. He even smacks me. I deserved that, too. He's pissed off, he probably has even more reason to hate me now - and he's going to leave, because he starts toward the window again ... And again, the loneliness, emptiness, the sadness ... it all sets in ... And finally, I start crying ... finally I let the tears out. And he sees this ... and stops ... and just stares at me. For a long, long moment. And he comes back to me and stands on his knees in front of me. He touches my hair ... and I just lean forward, somewhat collapsing over his left shoulder, and he just wraps his arms around me and holds me ... for another long moment ... then starts to rub my back and rock me just a little ... like a friend ... like he didn't really hate me - for another long, long moment ... and it just felt so good to be with someone ... so good. I want to go away with him ... And then suddenly he grabs my arms and stands, pulling me to my feet ... and hugs me again ... he's taller than me ... I can rest my cheek on his shoulder. He says, even though I'm not sure if he really means it, "I still hate you." And he pulls me toward the window again. And that's all I remember of that. ... yeah ... rock out whatever. ... yeah ... it's kinda like that.
Threat rating: Medium. Your total lack of decent
family values makes you dangerous, but we can
count on some right wing nutter blowing you up
if you become too high profile.

What threat to the Bush administration are you?
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Happy Deathday!
Your name:	Seth Glover
You will die on:	Tuesday, July 17, 2029
You will die of:	Smote By God
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