I remember dreams once in a blue moon, but -

[fahye]

Last night I dreamed about Valentine's Day. I was in a shop that sold the heads of lollipops, no sticks, in big display tubs like they were flavours of sorbet. Lots of couples milling around. I was hit on by a girl who bore a passing resemblance to the girl I sit next to in sociology tutorials, upon whom I have a vague, 'gee-your-hair-is-pretty' kind of crush. She introduced herself. Her name was different. I introduced myself. She said something that was dream-ridiculous but obviously an offer of kisses and fun.

I'd be nice if I didn't have an escape reflex even in my dreams, but my subconscious obviously isn't letting go of it without a fight. I fluttered. I apologised. I ran. To a shop where people in love with their pets were buying them presents, and a dog jumped at me, but that's probably not relevant.

(This would be somewhat less (more?) bizarre if I hadn't, a few weeks ago, spent a good hour-long tute eating lollipops and determinedly avoiding looking at her for fear of my attraction pouring out of my eyes and spilling all over her and messing up her hair.)

I can see the future like this if I look hard enough, waiting in my present semi-interested state for relationships to just come along and land on my head, but backing away as soon as they appear on the horizon. Kicking people backwards for every inch they get closer, expanding my (all-important) personal space to compensate. Getting sick of being inexperienced and going off and doing unwise things like the worst kind of fanfiction cliche, though without a perfect ex-rival to come and rescue me from an endless cycle of Loneliness and Casual Sex.

I'm not saying that this is particularly likely, or that I'll end up crying on a therapist's couch at the age of thirty, but the fact that my mind has an unhealthily tendency to create these scenarios and then pad them out with the kind of imaginative enthusiasm it usually reserves for the most beloved of my stories can't be a very good sign.

(Breaking up the cheap angst with some flippancy, and to top off the omens of doom: some man in America has found a way to combine chemistry and country music. My lecturer played us a tape. With both of my archnemeses ganging up on me, what chance do I have at life?)

I'm going to a party tonight, with a handful of people that I know and lots that I don't and nobody I see on a daily basis. I might put on a bit too much makeup and flirt outrageously and see if it helps.

Comments

[tammaiya.livejournal.com]

*hug* I wish I could say something comforting, but nothing I can think of is particularly helpful. The thing is, everybody IS their own worst enemy. And it's a lot harder to change yourself than people make it sound. Still, if you keep trying it has to work sometime, right? I hope, anyway. I'm not sure if the flirting outrageously thing is a good idea, but if you want to try it, I'd be hypocritical to tell you not to do something you'll regret. ^^;

[azraeljt.livejournal.com]

wasn't it if you get to 40 still single you and duncan are going to marry and i get to be the godmother of your children?

(that was supposed to make you) smile.
be yourself, and who knows what will happen. betray that and you'll regret it.