Tuesdays...

Bring out the worst in my hair.

I am feeling direly consumeristic, obsessed with the consuming of objects and substances. Mmmm...to purchase that which one cannot afford...although, to be fair, I have not been making those purchases, despite the desire.

I wish I could verbalize what is romantic to me more effectively, but the words are flying out my mouth without actually finding any meaning in themselves.

Ah, well. Brightness is all-encompassing and will find its way out in time.

Forgone conclusions, my angel. You cannot find what will not be found, but there may yet be hope in the eyes of your children.

When you dream over-loudly, your head will echo.

I woke up from a dream this morning, which is not unusual.

It was the tale of a shotgun wedding and a mysterious murder, twined in with a strange aunt with terrible flashbacks who lived in a half-submerged houseboat with an extremely neurotic cat and a large number of empty guns. Her refrigerator was full of tupperware containers of pink lemonade. I was a young boy.

I had another dream last night, but that one was terrible, rather than merely strange. My parents had been stealing children, and I turned them in, and some friends of mine mocked me for the rising scandal. I woke myself from that one, as I often seem to do automatically with dreams that I find unpleasant.

Now I am awake.