I was tired. I took a nap. I had a dream. I shall share. NIGHT TIME! YAY! I was in a dimly-lit classroom. Computers were there - it was some kind of test, but it was a SUPER test, like scoring high on this test was just like the written exam before the driving test - but it was like I was trying to get into this organization or something. Some of the questions the computer was asking were so simple - but I kept missing them. I knew what the answers were, I just put in different ones. I don't know if I was doing this on purpose or not, but ... I "accidentally" clicked in the wrong place and made everything close. Asked the professor/teacher/instructor person if I could start over because I'd clicked on something. Told her it wouldn't take long and through much reluctance, she said yes. So I started over, but it was different questions. This classroom was very strange. The roof was VERY high ... like ... St. Patrick's CATHEDRAL-type high. And it seemed like an old building and even the room I was in looked as though it was under repair. Renovation. Something. I don't remember who was there with me, but it was people I knew ... but there were only maybe four of us at the most in this room - this HUGE room. When I reached the spot in the test where I had been before I made the error, I found a message saying that I was to find Jack the Ripper and bring him back. That this was the first major trial I had to do - and if I did not do this to their liking, I would fail - whether I caught him or not. Okay ... Jack the Ripper - guy killed a bunch of girls ... well ... I started moving through the woodwork, through old buildings and new ones - just like they weren't even there, when I came to this really old, old, old apartment building and just came up through the floor. And there he was, lying on a bed made out of stained women's clothing. He was an old man, maybe in his fifties, with long-ish grey hair. About to his shoulders, I believe - and balding, no less. Dark eyebrows. Dark eyes. For some reason he reminded me of an uncle. And I felt absolutely no desire to kill him, no desire for revenge - just a sense of duty to catch him and bring him in. Which I did - I'd stolen his knife. He'd stood up to greet me, and I just talked to him like he was any other person. He was just like "Hi, pretty. What brings you to my humble abode?" And said something like "Ah, you know me, Jack. Working. Have to bring you in and all that." "Going to kill me?" "Don't really plan on it, no. Don't much like the whole killing thing." "Last one that came killed that Jack." Apparently, there's more than one Jack the Ripper - and, alas, I believe it. So I grabbed him from behind and forced him along the streets with the knife to his neck to make it look like a struggle and all of that when I brought him back to my instructor. And it was a guy this time, that I brought him to, back in that huge Cathedral room - and he had the gall to compare me to another student. Said something like the last one completed her mission, didn't bring him back. "Courtney cut off his head and left it hanging on the bell tower for everyone to see. She made an A. If you don't perform to those standards, then you fail." And I looked at Jack, and then the instructor, and then Jack, and then the instructor. Alas, torn through the eternal question: "Do I fail the course, or commit murder?" Hmm ... tough decision. I distinctly remember letting Jack go and throwing the knife down at my professor's feet and just saying "Ah, fuck it" and walking away. But I remember my instructor was smiling. You know, I'd thought I'd done well enough just bringing the guy in, but you know ... I'm not a ruthless killer - even if the guy is a murderer. He hadn't done anything to hurt me. In fact, he'd come along without a word of objection. Turning him in to the authorities was the right thing to do, am I wrong? You know, people have really started to LIKE me in dreams to a point where I start to wonder if everyone's fucking high. After the whole Jack thing, I started shifting through the woodwork again. Found a crying woman. Wanted her to stop crying, so I walked with her and rubbed her back, trying to console her. She was happy I was there, I think. And I snuck in the door of this one building where it had these teenagers - I think, could have been early 20's too - but they were wearing punkish clothes and had metro-style hair and mohawks of all different colors - I distinctly remember hot blue and neon orange. But I stole a cookie from a plate on one of their tables, amde a motion like I was tipping my hat, snuck back out and gave the woman the cookie. This probably has no fucking relevance whatsoever. But anyway, she smiled amidst her tears and started nibbling on the cookie. And we started walking again. And I thought I saw a familiar figure leaning against a building, but I didn't turn to look, because I was comforting the woman - but alas, this person was a guy. Skinny, tallish guy - well, taller than me, and I'm okay-tall ... he had dark hair and was wearing long sleeves, probably a coat or something. I think he started following me after I got far enough away. Wasn't a threatening presence or anything - in fact, I was actually glad that he was there. He kept a good distance, though. And finally I found a group that the woman knew, and she thanked me then darted off across the street to be with them. I waved. And then I heard the guy behind me say my name. I remember how he said it, very well - still rings in my ears - not only because it was the last thing that happened right before I woke up, but also because, well ... he had an accent. Don't know what kind of accent, just an accent. You know, I noticed in my dreams that I'm some kind of super-genius ... not just academic intelligence, but social intelligence too (everybody likes me ... WHAT?!) - and I can make most anything work out, tie most anything together. And if I really wanted to, I could manipulate the situation to fit my needs, to work out for me of all people. Sometimes, I can do that in real life. Once, I made a girl question her sanity because I said something a certain way that made her doubt her own memory - and her own religious beliefs. Oops. I usually don't use that, you know - unless I'm in some pretty serious trouble - then my mind works overtime. O-V-E-R-T-I-M-E. For a long time, I got really tired after doing that - because it always works, because I could get away with anything - anything ... but then Karma came and bit me in the ass, so I don't do it anymore ... unless it's actually necessary. I think the last time I used it was to stop a fight between two friends of mine. Friend A was at fault - but saw Friend B was at fault. Friend B was innocent. Remedied the situation over the course of a week by what some people would call a "silver tongue." Made Friend A realize it was her fault. Can't believe it took me a week - it was so blatantly obvious, if you put two and two together, you do not get 5 ... unless you're George Orwell. But Friend A was also a very stubborn, arrogant, pompous bitch. Ah, well. She learned her lesson for starting such problems over the stupidest shit. *raises her right hand, with her index, middle, and ring finger raised - Girl Scout pledge stance* I swear to only use my powers for good ... and the occasional cookie. When I talked to Becky at the funeral home on Friday (Brandy's other sister whom I hadn't spoken to in maybe a year), she said that she always thought I would end up being a lawyer. Ha. Amanda said she thought I was going to be a pee-sychiatrist. Ah, well ... teacher is the next best thing. I think I've written enough, I do. Think I'll go write for a while on my novel, that I shall! Back off, bitch! That's MY cookie, damnit!!!