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Monday, Aug. 26, 2002 / 10:34 p.m. ~Number Four - It's Something In the Cosmos, I Repeat~ I think that dream was really upsetting. You know, the one I wrote about in my FIRST entry of the day. I was so in love with that man, the farmer, and I'd given him everything I had to give, I'd changed my life to be with him, I'd given in as well as giving up. It was about love and sacrifice, and just as I was not only doing all of that, loving and sacrificing, I confessed to it all, told him how filled up with him I actually was, and it's never mutual, is it? Just as I'd reached that point, and I knew it, he was everything to me, he was gone. Durr. I'm almost ready to go to bed. Almost ready to get ready. Listening to the BB live feed, again. I never had it all the way off. It was Roddy and Gerry shooting something into a hoop on the basketball court, but I don't think they have a basketball. I hate listening to these two talk. They are so full of themselves. All the people in the house repeat themselves, and my guess is they don't even realize it. It's now officially off. I've read all the diaries I'm going to read. My clothes are dry and folded. I feel like crap, and from what I've read in a diary or two elsewhere it may be going around. Jonathan Cainer wrote about some conjunction with some planets, I forget which ones, but there's an opposition, and in my life it's supposed to mean drama, chaos, but ultimately change. He keeps saying that though, and I think hmmmm.... something is going to present itself, eh?, but it never does. It's always the same old crap. I am depressed, I know. And I should whine in my paper journal, someplace people can't see, but I want it here, and I can't tell you why. I don't know why. Yet I don't want anyone here to read it, and yet again I can't stop writing it. The same things over and over. And all I wanted to do was expound upon the dream I had this morning, but I can't remember any more of it to do that. This was not the first time I've dreamed I am telling someone "I love you", or someone is telling me that, and I'd have to say I don't remember the last time I said those words to a person. I tell Norm and Glad every day, and I say it as I did in the dream, I hold Norm close, give her a big squeeze, and I say, "I love you SO much!", just like in the dream, but that was a man in the dream, and the feelings attached to that statement were so totally different. My eyes hurt. I'm going to bed. Promise. Maybe I'll take tomorrow off from writing, instead of worrying about pleasing some Interweb audience. If only I didn't already know you people. I'd worry so much less. But as it is I care too much what you think and I hate when I write this kind of personal intense garbage because it embarrasses me to know you read it. Isn't that fucked up? Maybe one day we could designate as 'Really Personal Garbage in Your Diary Day', and everyone could write the deepest crap they can think up. Really from the well, you know? Then we'd be on an even keel here. Cost of the War in Iraq
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