Sunday, March 30, 2008
And Now, a Few Words to Fill Your Ego
I kinda miss you, dude. I feel weird saying that. How could you miss someone you never really hung out with?
And now, I'm going to tell you a secret, which may or may not make you write me off as some crazy chick: I had a dream about you once. More than once, well, a couple times. I don't know why I'm telling you this, except I've never told anyone, not a soul, so maybe in return you could keep it to yourself as well, as one of those silly little stories I tell to amuse you.
I don't remember the second one really, except I suppose it was much like the first. We were on a date or something. This was a very long time ago. I don't really remember where we went in the dream; all I remember is being on the way home. You were driving, and I was in the passenger seat. We were having this really long talk. We finally got to where were going. Maybe you were taking me home, but at last, you stopped the car. I think you'd been driving for awhile, and finally, you just stopped.
We sat in that car and kept talking -- you in the driver's seat, and me, in the passenger seat -- and that was it, for what seemed like so many hours.
And I don't know why, but ever since that dream I have felt like I've known you, or have wanted to know you.
I don't remember what we talked about. I only remember what a good time it was, and the feeling of knowing you so well when I woke up, really knowing you.
Whether dreams are self-created, or some Freudian shit, whether you were just filling some role my brain conjured up and necessitated in my sleep, I still have nothing but gratitude.
I guess, however silly it may sound, I just want so badly to thank you for what was and still remains one of the greatest dreams I have ever dreamed in my life.
So, thank you.
I kinda miss you, dude. I feel weird saying that. How could you miss someone you never really hung out with?
And now, I'm going to tell you a secret, which may or may not make you write me off as some crazy chick: I had a dream about you once. More than once, well, a couple times. I don't know why I'm telling you this, except I've never told anyone, not a soul, so maybe in return you could keep it to yourself as well, as one of those silly little stories I tell to amuse you.
I don't remember the second one really, except I suppose it was much like the first. We were on a date or something. This was a very long time ago. I don't really remember where we went in the dream; all I remember is being on the way home. You were driving, and I was in the passenger seat. We were having this really long talk. We finally got to where were going. Maybe you were taking me home, but at last, you stopped the car. I think you'd been driving for awhile, and finally, you just stopped.
We sat in that car and kept talking -- you in the driver's seat, and me, in the passenger seat -- and that was it, for what seemed like so many hours.
And I don't know why, but ever since that dream I have felt like I've known you, or have wanted to know you.
I don't remember what we talked about. I only remember what a good time it was, and the feeling of knowing you so well when I woke up, really knowing you.
Whether dreams are self-created, or some Freudian shit, whether you were just filling some role my brain conjured up and necessitated in my sleep, I still have nothing but gratitude.
I guess, however silly it may sound, I just want so badly to thank you for what was and still remains one of the greatest dreams I have ever dreamed in my life.
So, thank you.
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