Dysfunctional Dreamer

Someone Shot My Left Arm In The War

I dreamt last night that I participated in some kind of war, and I was shot, three times. One bullet hit my left arm, and another two hit my right. Somehow I wasn't bleeding to death, and my left arm recovers miraculously by itself, but the two other bullets remained in my right arm. Such a strange dream. I never remembered how it ended.
Perhaps it's just my obsession with Colonel Aureliano Buendía, a character from the book I'm reading- A Hundred Years Of Solitude. *shrugs*

Everything else seems to be going by in a blur-my weekdays seem to be merging into my weekends, and suddenly time is moving ten times faster than I remember it. I am beginning to feel lost in a whirlwind of memories, and perhaps that is why I feel a tinge of sadness. New memories, and old ones, my poor little confused mind can't bear it all. I guess at this moment, I prefer my head to be clear of all thoughts. Empty. Or rather,I desire it to be so.

I should be happy, really. It's a great time to be alive- I've got into the course of my choice, now my whole life is set for the next three years, my previous assessment went well, I've got fantastic friends,plus,I'm in London, so I really shouldn't complain.

The fall of the petals of the cherry blossoms are so romantic, it's magical. Just the idea of spring in the air, the flowers in bloom, should really awe me so much, keep my mind busy that there would be no room for depression.
But it always finds you. Lurking in the tinist corner in your mind. The plague that once the realization hits, will spread like wildfire. It's a fucked up feeling.
I guess my lonely pangs have started again.

posted by nori_b @ 4:33 PM