I had a dream, a not-good one. Which made me sleep 45 minutes longerthan I had intended; my bad dreams are always pretty real, to me at least, and I always want to "finish" them, because in my half-asleep state I don't realize it'd be better to get up and end them. The world was ending. There were signs, heck, there have been signs all over the place. In the dream, the most recent thing was bugs -- all the apples had been wiped out, over night. I was living somewhere in Britain now, and I could hear a girl next door telling her father all the apples were dead, and I knew, I knew that the next morning we would wake up and all the plants would be dying, the grass the trees, everything. I just knew. I went into the kitchen and my grandmother was there, brewing a pot of coffee which would somehow get rid of all the "pesky fruitflies" which were for some reason starting to swarm about. I can't remember the last time I dreamed about my grandmother. I want to call her, but it's probably to late at night already.
I stood in my new backyard, looking at all the potted plants hanging in the trees. I had a new apartment in the city, with a back and a front yard, it was wonderful. harvey was there, which is strange, since I've never dreamed about him and I've just read that he's quitting LiveJournal. [Then again, I came right out here and the dream is still fresh; maybe I projected backward.] I thought, "why now? I'm only 24, I'm just getting started. I have this new place, and a new job working outside, I'm just getting started." But then I realized how ridiculous that was. Someone's just getting started, always -- so what if I'm one of them? Millions of people have lived full lives already, and mine hasn't been so bad so far.
I'm all itchy now, from the thought of the fruitflies. I'm going to take a shower, I hope that makes me feel fresh and forget about it.
This post brought to you without proofreading, or heck even looking.