Recurring Dreams

Right now I’m having loads of recurring dreams from years ago. Last night I went to this dilapidated haunted house on a hill in the town below mine that I used to go to in my dreams for years. It was weird visiting this dream in there that I basically had when I was about 22, and seeing it from a different perspective. I hope I don’t go back to that house again. I used to love it, now I hate it. Unfortunately, I found things in there that I liked. This cranberry colored floral shaped dish. Very Art Nouveau. I hope that doesn’t mean that I’m going back there again.

The last few nights I’ve had full circle dreams in which I had finally played all the different parts in each dream. Things are closing up, ending. Whether this is good or bad, I don’t know. At least I have a sense of completion. In one that came back from when I was a little girl, there was this Mexican fast food place in the mall that I wanted to go to, used to go to when I was little in my dreams. I dreamed about it around six months ago, wanting to go there, but nobody wanted to take me. Then I dreamed about it last week, and didn’t want to go there. So that’s probably for the best.

I need to start having lots of Love fantasies. I had lots of rape fantasies for a while there when I was in my early twenties. There is so much rape in the world. Trouble is, I don’t fantasize much anymore. I just go to sleep. But man, when I was younger, I had a MAJOR fantasy life. Not just sex fantasies, all sorts of things. I used to chain smoke with my headphones on and dream up all sorts of situations. I used to lay in bed and dream up all sorts of weird realities. I don’t do this anymore. I’m much more active in the physical world now.

I had the opportunity to take a gold envelope of pot and leave all my packages and school books behind, but Nooooo, had to carry all of that. I mean, Madonna asked me if I wanted to go with her to buy more weed, but I stayed with my baggage. *sigh* I’ve really got to learn to let go — my dreams are suffering.

My copy of “Foucault’s Pendulum” arrived today. I will be holed up in my room for the next few days with it.


One of the main problems in the conspiracy theory reality is that there is a pervasive air of anti-Semitism going on. That whole Khazarian Empire shit is bullshit. Europe’s Jews are NOT really Khazarian descendents. They are Hebrews. Mixed Hebrews, but Hebrews nonetheless.


It’s interesting, I used urine to get rid of a pesky neighbor.


So I had one of those recurring dreams where there’s a whole new room and hallway on the side of the house. Anyway it vacillated between garden and ruins of rooms. I went to go pick an orange, but my sister was picking all of them. I told her, Oh that’s right, there’s a lemon back here, and went to go pick lemons. Turned the corner and I saw a pear tree with huge ripe pears. I picked a couple but they turned fuzzy and rotten. Then I saw the two bright purple shiny ones that I immdiately picked. I brought them back to the house and my brother Jon said, Oh those are gifts for you! with a smile.

I’ve been to this tree before but either I was too young and short to pick them, or I didn’t think they were for me. But this time, they were mine.


Suga Mama

There are a lot of situations in my life where people just want to go ahead and use me. I am a majikal creature, and people seem to know this on a deeper level. They want to capture me, use me for their own gain, and then destroy me when they’re finished with me. Luckily, I now have a couple of shapeshifting magickians standing in as markers when one of these fools shows up. Happened recently, actually. I showed up to the scene, gave the girl all I could give her, and one of my friends showed up with dreamcatchers. I know to not go back and see the girl again. Bad bad news.

Marc is the last person I’ve allowed to keep on using me, till they use me up.

Paul is an asshole. He toyed with me, got me to fall in love with him, then let me know that he must marry an Egyptian girl and that there were 15 girls in the running. I shouldn’t have said it, I knew better, but I told him that “one of the girls is going to wonder what you’re doing with 14 other girls.” I hope they were my katts, and I hope he gets everything that he truly deserves for that assholery. Crazy fucking wife. Egyptian, though. That is a MUST!

And Satan! Well he’s a fair weather friend, unless you’re a client paying him. Yeah, he used me for sex with other (loose) women, and then a BRAND NEW CAR!!! White, of course. White for an angel. Yes, I’m onto your antics. You use me primarily for sex with hot chix.

And of course Zarina used me for my money. But I got her back. I left the bitch in financial ruin, and crying her eyes out for a year or two. In fact, according to the stories that my friend Claudia keeps telling me, I’m still getting even with the ho.

And then there’s my family. I won’t even get started on them.

Nowadays when a lover or a potential lover tells me about their Big Plans I don’t will anything for them into existence. Fuck it, they’re not praying for a better path for me. Why should I bother?

I want one of these:

Male this time. I want someone who makes me feel all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns when I look at them. A keeper for a change.

Got my period yesterday. Suddenly, after years of it having dried up, I have lining in my discharge again. Hmmmm. I want a kid, but I refuse to raise a child in poverty or as a single mother.

I’m not in good enough shape to carry a child right now. Too much cholesterol running through my veins. More salad, less sandwiches with mayo. I have low blood pressure so I don’t have to worry about salt at the moment.

I have this kid who’s wanted to be born for a long ass time now. It wanted my friend Mike to be its dad, but well… I needed medication and therapy for a few years so things didn’t work out the way it had planned. I would have had it with him, though. In a heartbeat.

Now I have to find it a new dad. He has to be able to support a family, I will not tolerate a loser. I better get my ass in shape now. I hate to think of what’s become of my stomach muscles. My back muscles are all fucked up. Got to walk off some weight first before I do any muscle exercises. I can’t even do one sit up anymore. That’s really bad. The vessel is weak. I suppose I could clean up the garage, get a radio and start dancing again.

The main problem with carrying a child is I can’t take any medication. All my meds cause birth defects. If I don’t take my medication, I don’t sleep and I’m suicidal. I’m going to need to find some natural way to relax. I don’t know if lithium causes birth defects (I know it’s not good for the kidneys.) If not, I’ll go on that.

Marc’s Grave

I am not going to be visiting any posts that I made before September in my blog anymore. It’s all my pain about Marc. I used ex-lovers as scapegoats in order to feel what I was going through, so that I could cry. Today is my last visit to that section of my blog. After that, may he rest in peace.

I feel like throwing everything away and starting fresh. But I won’t do that this time. Sure, I’ll burn off all of my candles, but I’m not going to just throw everything away again. Even though I want to… badly. Environmental bulimia. What I am going to do is get my long locks cut off into a long layered bob. I grew my hair out for Marc. I’m more comfortable with shorter hair.