And this brings me to last nights dream.

A little background info: me and michelle hooked up for a short fling about a year and a half ago. Been "friends" ever since, until about two nights ago where she finally came out with her 'offer' of being roommates in van, was something she really didn't mean and had said while drunk. Same goes for her 'interest' in me and apparently the times we talked about seeing if anything more would work out. So I told her fuck off, I'm sick of her being a fucking flake, and to not wanting anything more to do with her. Apparently we weren't really friends if I'm willing to lose a "good friend like her over something silly", her words. I told her to piss off, a 'good friend' like her that's only used me for sex, made serious offers she never intended to keep (I'm sorry but is not moving across the province kind of a big deal?), and seemed to only be leading me on about wanting to see me as a backup for her jerk boyfriend.

So last nights dream. The timeline might be a little messed, but for the first section I'm in a school, wandering between the classrooms and a large dormitory. Inside the dormitory it's incredibly busy, and for some reason I think the best means of getting excused from the place is to take an axe to my shoulder. So I find a hatchet and hit it down into my right shoulder. It kinda stings. So I go to the front desk to ask if I may leave, but as I'm coming up I think maybe, this wasn't such a good idea. I mean wouldn't a guy that has an axe blade an inch down into his shoulder set off some sort of "he's unstable to the point of harming himself and should be detained" warnings.

So instead what do I brilliantly decide to do? I turn like a sharp 90 degrees 10 feet from the women at the desk (who all look up to watch me) walk nonchalantly away from them and out the front door.

Outside the cool air feels nice, but the sting in my shoulder is getting worse, and once I make my way to the parking lot I stop, take a deep breath, grit my teeth and pull the axe out of my shoulder. A few drops of blood trickle out before it stops and seals up, the split skin meshing up slightly off, already a scar from my collarbone to my shoulder is going to be obvious.

I get into a little honda civic after getting a txt from michelle to hang out at her place. I head down a sprawling hill into a residential area, fairly upscale. I pull up into her driveway, careful as I exit to not strain or split my shoulder. We stand out on the front porch, smoking, talking. Something doesn't feel right, she seems to be pretending nothing is wrong.

Finally, I start to remember, that vicious streak clouding my judgement. Instead of letting her take me back inside to her room, I say I need to get going, lighting another cigarette on the way to the car, trying not to say vicious things.

As I close the car door, I wake up, memory of this gone until it comes back to me a couple hours later.

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