Wednesday 8 April 2020

Your Mid-Week Update for 04/08/20

I had a dream about murder that I want to tell you about. I fully understand that I’m having these dreams because I’m under stimulated but what are you going to do? I have no excuse for leaving the house except for the bi-weekly grocery trip which I am taking full advantage of but it is not enough. 

Especially as the days feel longer and I’m slowly running out of things to do.

I hate knitting.

I know I said it would be good for me to stab things other than people but I get so bored just sitting there. So I’ve been watching workout videos.

And doing them. I’m also participating in the videos I’m watching.

I’ve been cleaning the house like crazy.

I just need to do something.

So yeah, I had a dream that made me really miss the old days even though it’s only been a month.

As soon as I can’t do something, I really, really want to do it.

So. My dream.

There’s a woman across the street and she’s leaving the gym with a small yellow duffel bag. She’s drinking from a black water bottle and chatting to someone through her headphones. I stay across the street but follow close behind her. She heads in one direction for a few blocks and then stops at a florist shop on the corner. I take the opportunity to cross the street so I’m right outside the door when she exits with a dozen orange roses. I remember thinking something like: I want to paint the roses red. I follow right behind her for maybe a block before she suddenly turns around and stares at me. That’s how I knew it was a dream because she looked like Charlotte. I still think about the Westburns sometimes, and all the damage they did to my family. But she wasn’t Charlotte, she just looked like Charlotte. She said something but it just sounds like noise. Garbled and far away. But it didn’t matter because I just grabbed the flowers out of her hand and ran into the alley. And I then I got to the end of the alley and I was surrounded. I turned around and threw the flowers down as she caught up to me. She said something again but I couldn’t hear it – she was probably yelling at me for stealing her roses and running away. And then I had a rope in my hand. I squeezed it tight and my hands started to bleed. There were pieces of wire sticking out of the rope all over. Jagged and sharp. Even though my hands were still bleeding I threw the rope around her neck and pulled her close so I could get a better grip. The rope started to turn red as I squeezed her tighter and tighter. She wasn’t resisting though. She just stood there as I strangled her. It made me angry so I threw her up against the wall but when her head hit the brick, she smiled at me. My hands were all torn up at this point, I don’t know that I could even feel them. And she wasn’t fighting me so I kept banging her head against the wall. It was hurting her. It was killing her. I heard her skull crack, I saw blood and hair on the brick behind her every time I lifted her head to go again. But she wouldn’t stop smiling at me. After what felt like hours of hit her head and squeezing her throat, she finally collapsed at my feet. Her eyes were wide open and she was smiling but she wasn’t moving. I watched the blood swim from her head and turn the gravel a dark red colour. And then I looked over at the flowers and they were withering away but they weren’t red like I wanted them to be.

And then I woke up to my alarm.

Because a consistent schedule is supposed to be good for your mind, body, and soul.

Don’t know what the fuck that dream was, though.

I keep thinking about it. About my hands bleeding, and the woman smiling, and the orange roses. I don’t know what it all means but it sure was something.

Anyways. I miss murder, but I also clearly have something else going on. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe a dream is just a dream.

Who. Knows.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe (Seriously)

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