Bier de Stone ( wrote,
Bier de Stone


(click for illustration)

Last night I woke up at 1:30. It was a dream I was having that I wish I hadn't woken up from because, although there had been sex involved, I was about to come face to face with Ana. I can't remember what the settings were anymore, but when I woke up, there was a term I wasn't familiar with and I felt the need to look it up in my dictionary. Here is the term: Ecto-copulence intolerance. I know that this term has no meaning whatsoever, but it sounded very much like a legitimate term in my dream.

Now, normally I would be scared shitless being awake in the middle of the night. My walls don't just creak, they knock. So, just leave it to my imagination to think that entities from another plane are knocking to be let in in the form of ectoplasm, or poltergeist. And now for the moral to the story in my dream. Ana was standing a short distance away. Her gaze was on me and our eyes had met, so there was no getting around the fact that we finally acknowledged each others presence. But I know I have mixed feeling about revisiting old friends after having no contact with them for so many years, and as much as I want to sit down and cover our lives in the span it would take to gulp a Starbucks double espresso, I'm hesitant that my evil side will say something oh-so wrong.

Back in middle school, there was a blond girl I had the hots for, and when I told my friends how much I liked here, she miraculously had the same feelings about me. I must have a natural fear of women, because during recess breaks and/or lunch time, this girl, and her friends would try to track me down for a little pow-wow. The situation was simple. Me and my friends were new to the school and there were so many new faces from difference (elementary) schools that merged their students with all the old familiar faces I took comfort in knowing. Yvette was one of the students from another school.

One day, my buddies and I are hanging in the baseball field. The benches where we sat were situated in a corner of the field against a chain link fence, and here comes Yvette directly from the open field where there is no escape. I'm so fucking psyched, I'm overwhelmed with anxiety and I decide my best option is to jump the fence and be on my way elsewhere.

You know, I'm sorry, but whenever I think of this, I can't help but cringe at my stupidity. I'm just a bundle of nerves when it comes to controlling strong feelings for somebody and being withing earshot of them. Plus, it isn't like my idea of the feminine gender wasn't engraved in my head to instill danger. I grew up with two older sisters, whom I imagine might've rode me like a horsey the moment I learned to crawl on my own. My psycho mother also did a number on me, but elementary school was an absolute circus.

And this is where I find myself in my dream just before I wake myself up. If it were to come to be that our paths would cross, I wouldn't want to find myself running away, pretending not to recognize her, pretending not to see her. And yet, wouldn't you call waking up from a dream you really don't want to wake from a form of running? It wasn't the sex that was taking place. I don't even remember who I was with during that part of the dream. I wanted to say hello to Ana.

Tags: illustration

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