2004-01-23
Restless, Senseless Dreams Will Plague

listening to: Disappear (Live) - Jars Of Clay
reading: Lilith by George MacDonald and Mythopoeia by J.R.R. Tolkien (found a copy on the web and printed it out for meself to read)
thinking: that I am really tired and cold... that is the fault of my restless dreams again though...grrr...

Well I am up and I write a little earlier than usual. I thought that might be a recompense for not writing at midnight last night. Sadly, the excuse is not that I got into bed earlier. On the contrary, I got to bed at the same time as usual, 2 in the mornin. Then what was I doing? Trying to plot a layout for my diary again. I have been up and down and left and right through stock photo websites and I have found heaps of cool ones for layouts but none seem to be quite me. So I browsed through some quotes. If I find a quote, then I will have an easier time finding an image, and once I have those, I can start laying out the layout, then I can start coding!

But I get ahead of myself.

First, I need a quote (from anything, a poem, a person, a song) and an image. I don't want to do an imageless layout, and a quote isn't really necessary, but I think it adds volumes to a layout when paired with the right image. I found a couple I liked but I can't decide if they really match me and my diary writing style and moods... I will throw them out. Input is VERY welcome as are suggestions.

I am only a small girl full of wide eyed wonder standing at the brink of my door looking at the whole world spread before me.

That is my own writing. I thought it might work well. But I couldn't find an image I liked. I found a very blue image of a small child stepping into a lake. It was really more of a landscape though... And it just wasn't quite what I was looking for...

First I thought, almost despairing, This must crush my spirit now; Yet I bore it, and am bearing- Only do not ask me how.

I like that, but just couldn't decide whether it is right for my diary or not...

Afterwards I learned, that the best way to manage some kinds of

painful thoughts, is to dare them to do their worst; to let

them lie and gnaw at your heart till they are tired; and you find

you still have a residue of life they cannot kill.

Same problem as last quote

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry. Unlike the rhetoricians, who get a confident voice from remembering the crowd they have won or may win, we sing amid our uncertainty.

I think my writing is rather more rhetoric more than it is poetry thus this would be rather hypocritical. Still same problem as last two.

She puts on happiness like a loose dress

This is from (oh don't kill me) a *gasp* mewithoutYou song. Oh my I am stealing lyrics from emo music. I do not care if their Bullet to Binary music video paid homage to The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. That was really nice and I loved that part and I remembered how The Giving Tree used to make me cry, but there was this little problem, they kept cutting back to the band and there was all this noisy music going on! Grrrrr. I mean their guitarist was on his back on the ground wriggling about whilst playing. That was just way way way too over dramatic if you ask me. And those screaming vocals still barely count as such. But some of the lyrics are pretty. I was reading them. Although still a tad overdramatic. That particular line continues and it says "Over pain that I will never know". I don't want that part. Well probably the "over pain" part, "She puts on happiness like a loose dress over pain", but "I will never know"?!?!? Pffffftttt. Come on. I presonally know a small handful of people who have been through the same places I have and know what my pain is. And the pain is not that harsh. So I chop it up just a tad... That particular song is The Silencer. Just thought you might like to know.

That idea is actually my favorite. Yes. Happiness is a loose dress... But would it fit me right? Again I ask for, Input and Suggestions. Much appreciated.

I am so lazy. I need to whip myself up a few RealOne playlists. Namely a couple extra long diary writing playlists. Although I guess if I listen to the same playlist everytime I write in my diary, I would get pretty tired of it. And I don't think I have enough music to have a couple good hour long playlists. Argh.

My next thought is to impart my restless dream which disturbed my sleep last night. All I remember is the very end. It was based on the last two episodes of Cowboy Bebop. The Real Folk Blues.

Julia sat in a largeish armchair and Jet stood close by. I was Spike and I had my head laid on her breast. Something was about to happen. This had all happened once before, thus we knew what was happening, but for some reason or other, we had to endure it again. We sat in wait. The atmosphere was very heavy and poignant with depressing emotions. The door burst open and someone stood in the shadows. They had a gun and it was aiming for me. But I knew this, and I knew that they were going to shoot me, and I knew it had to happen again but I wanted to prolong the shot as long as I could. I reluctantly disentangled myself from Julia and the shots began. I ran against the wall adjacent to the wall in which the door was. I ran back and forth against it. Watching the gun which now loomed through the doorway although the one wielding the gun was still invisible to my eyes. Shots were fired and I seemed to see the bullets come slower than they probably should have been going. As I pressed up against the corner, watching the gun, I knew that I could only avoid one more shot until I let it hit me (and perhaps it is significant to say that I was to be grazed by a bullet nigh the eye. I already had a scar there from last time, but I was still to get hit there again). About now, my subconsious (which recognized this as a dream the whole time anyway), realized that getting shot was bad enough, although I was expecting it, and from there, the dream could only get worse. It was fast approaching nightmare territory and it wouldn't let me fall into that. Thus I was roused. I woke up just a little bit. Just enough to be outside the dream and remind myself not to dwell on it now or I would go back to sleep and continue the dream.

Actually, now I would have liked to, but alone in the dark, it seemed a terrifying prospect. It was, I think, about 6 in the morning but still very dark. I might have been able to go back to sleep after that but something was stirred within me and I lay in bed thinking instead. By degrees, I became more and more awake as the reflections continued. I feared that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. It was nigh 8:30 by that time so I got up and grabbed Mythopeia and Lilith and got back in bed to read until I wanted to get up and go online and write, maybe chat (if there was anyone to chat with) before I ate breakfast. I read Mythopeia but I was so tired. I lay down and closed my eyes and went back to sleep. I woke up briefly around 9:30, then went back to sleep, then woke up at around 10:30, and told myself that despite how tired I was, I had to get up then. No sleeping in. So I got up.

That dream haunts me still. I did not impart all the details and all the feelings. But it really was wild... and that was just the end. I don't remember the rest.

There is nothing more to say. I need to go and do some things, then work on the template ideas again.

Input and Suggestions ;)

before & & after