| raisedbymoogles ( @ 2009-09-21 12:54:00 |
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| Entry tags: | dreams |
My subconscious is about as subtle as an anvil.
The dream: I was a Roman daughter of a wealthy family, about to be married off to somebody-I-don't-know-who, and I didn't. Want. To go. My parents locked me in my suite-of-rooms, so I destroyed all the furnishings, set them on fire, and tried to escape in the ensuing fracas. Alas, it was all for naught, and with much raging and protests I was sold off into slavery. What I remember most were the overwhelming feelings of anger, helplessness, and betrayal.
...I don't think we need to spend the whole class period analyzing this dream, do we?
Also, I think I'm going to ask for a mattress pad for my birthday. My bed is way too hard. I was a slug all yesterday, there's absolutely no reason why I should be hobbling around like an old lady today. *ache ache, pain pain* X|
...No more whining today, I promise.