Monthly Archives: November 2009

Another Dreeeam.

I’m not really sure what the science behind dreaming is. I think there are many many factors. Here’s a doozie:
I can’t recall where it begins and ends, but I was watching my video “magic box” on YouTube, and I noticed that someone had added a new beginning. It was about fifteen minutes of me jogging, past a school bus, past a group of people doing aerobics. The aerobic dancers were wearing green Fresh Cut Salads shirts bla bla bla. you had to be there. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
while I was watching this strange miracle of a video, I started scratching a bump on my hand. The bump became a boil of sorts, and I managed to squeeze a baby bird skeleton out of the blemish. Since that was apparently NOT the first time that had happened, I was understandably upset. Levi Jonston (of the Palin variety) was there for some reason, and when I went into the bathroom, I saw that he had pooped in my sink, to punish me for trying to kick him out of my party. I started screaming at him, and just to spite me some more, he emptied the rest of his intestinal contents in to his trousers. Just as things were settling down, Kim Catrall fell out of my second story window. I looked out the window, to see her embedded in the pavement.
As always, I’m leaving out many details, Not only because I’m lazy, but because my dreams are not for the faint of heart, and you my friend seem like a faint hearted nancy.
Okay sorry for boring, and bye. off to dream some more….

Confessions of a teenager with MS Paint

These goodies are very appropriate for this session of therapy. I did them in high-school on MS Paint, using a mouse, on a low resolution screen with like five pixels. To make matters worse, or at least more nintedoughy, I lost the original files. Still…I like them, and they certainly give you a window into my well-adjusted mind. I should really start drawing again, having an outlet might take some of the creep out of my music. I’ll add more, once i find them.

first session. dreams.

Okay, I guess my therapy page can be my official blog. So I am starting over. I guess that’s what therapy is all about. I will start by posting a dream I already wrote down, but more is coming.
Gotta Start Somewhere…

I’m new to this whole blogging thing, so I don’t know what to write about. My Dreams; Very disturbing, and emotionally stirring…to me. For some reason, I can never really get that across when I’m desperately spewing out the seemingly relevant details to the nearest victim. Still, i feel the need to get them off my chest.
My september resolution will be this: No telling my dreams to loved ones. I will write them in this Therapy section of my website, starting today. Just know I’m censoring 90% of the disturbing, gory, and embarrassing parts.

Last night, I had a Dream that I was at a vacation house with my family. I was very excited about eating a chocolate chunked brownie, and a slice of apple pie. as I was searching through the refrigerator for some whipped cream, my mom had some how placed several mops and brooms in my bucket of dessert, along with some dirty water. apparently, this was an on-going problem, because after chewing my mom out for ruining my dessert, I banned her from ever coming on vacation with us again.
It was suddenly five years later, and I was driving to a vacation house with my family, minus my mother, of course. My brother Chad and his wife, had a forth child, who was now a three-year-old transgender, with short blonde hair, and an adorable face. his/her name was olivia or something. Our dear friend, Reade, was driving, and clearly did not get the concept of a stop sign, or a crossing guard, because he slowly ran into several school children. When I tried to enlighten him, he got extremely offended. So when we arrived at the vacation house, I was giving a very large iguana a piggy-back ride. My Brother encouraged his transgender baby to take a bite out of the iguana’s tail. I felt guilty about letting that happen. I also felt guilty about excommunicating my mother from all family vacations.
I’m going to stop, as I am sure the one person who made it this far is gnawing his own leg off in, in boredom. but this is only the beginning. I’m starting to think that my dreams have less to do with psychological issues, and more with mass quantities of hard drugs i do…i mean, of food i consume late at night…
sweet dreams.