With Pleasure Comes Pain

08 December 2003 ľ 8:27 am
really, i was just looking for my car

Vivid dreams are like too much sugar in a cup of coffee. In some ways, they are nice, in others - it's too much for you to handle.

I went to my brother's house at 7am this morning. My mother was there. My sister-in-law and brother were there too. They were all awake, puttering around the house. I walked in, asked them how the weekend went, and did not get a response. I went outside looking for my car, I parked it on the street rather than in their driveway. Many children were gathering in the streets. Ahh yes, it's Monday morning, school is in session, the young ones are preparing. I see a tall lanky boy, he towers over a blonde boy who could be considered plump. The tall boy pushes him and runs off, turns back, pushes him again, and runs off. I find myself filled with rage. I transform into a 12 year old girl again, hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap, torn jeans showing my bruised knees, and sneakers stained with mud. I walk up to the tall boy and tell him to his face that he's a pussy for going after someone smaller than him. The other children join in on my taunt, but somehow - the words change from 'pussy' to 'wussman' - it was like being in Pleasantville.

I never found my car, and I never transformed back into a woman. But, the little blonde boy smiled at me so gratefully, as we laughed together when the tall boy ran away.

I learn something new everyday, even if it is just a reaffirmation of something I already knew. There is nothing to fear in life... In a moment of rage, I told Mr. B that I felt our relationship was a waste. I meant it in that moment, but now - I know better. Maybe the last two years were, when my life was on hold for him. But the first few - I remember fondly.

	08 December 2003 ľ 8:27 am really, i was just looking for my car Vivid dreams are like too much sugar in a cup of coffee. In some ways, they are nice, in others - it's too much for you to handle. I went to my brother's house at 7am this morning. My mother was there. My sister-in-law and brother were there too. They were all awake, puttering around the house. I walked in, asked them how the weekend went, and did not get a response. I went outside looking for my car, I parked it on the street rather than in their driveway. Many children were gathering in the streets. Ahh yes, it's Monday morning, school is in session, the young ones are preparing. I see a tall lanky boy, he towers over a blonde boy who could be considered plump. The tall boy pushes him and runs off, turns back, pushes him again, and runs off. I find myself filled with rage. I transform into a 12 year old girl again, hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap, torn jeans showing my bruised knees, and sneakers stained with mud. I walk up to the tall boy and tell him to his face that he's a pussy for going after someone smaller than him. The other children join in on my taunt, but somehow - the words change from 'pussy' to 'wussman' - it was like being in Pleasantville. I never found my car, and I never transformed back into a woman. But, the little blonde boy smiled at me so gratefully, as we laughed together when the tall boy ran away. I learn something new everyday, even if it is just a reaffirmation of something I already knew. There is nothing to fear in life... In a moment of rage, I told Mr. B that I felt our relationship was a waste. I meant it in that moment, but now - I know better. Maybe the last two years were, when my life was on hold for him. But the first few - I remember fondly.
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