I’m not sure if there’s any point in writing today – if there’s not, it’s because I purposely destroyed it.

My dreams were great, crystal clear, numerous, and symbolic.

I just lay in bed for 14 hours.

I was walking near my new apartment, or at least what I assumed was. The graveyard gave way into different structures besides gravestones, which I understood were also memorial monuments of some kind.

There were people all around, it was some sort of May Day celebration, even though I have, ironically, never known what May Day stood for at all. People were dressed in some sort of semi-modern version of what I imagine were Germanic Eostar celebration costumes, like a half assed renFaire.

I walked down by the river, and there was a swing set. In my mind it made sense that all these swings stood for dead children. There were people swinging on some of them.

One woman in particular caught my eye. She was swinging on a swingset of tall swings about 5 or 6 swings long… only she was at a point that had no swing in it. There was simply no swing, and she was swinging in thin air. She was blonde, and was wearing a fern green billowy long skirt, with a brown leather waist cincher and a tea-aged off-white peasant blouse. She was just as happy and cheery as everyone else there, only she was just sitting on a plank of wood which appeared to be magically following the trajectory of imaginary chains. Everyone was swinging at maximum height.

Suddenly, the swing threw her off. It’s hard to explain, it was exactly like she had just leaned back too far on the swing on the back swing, but then the swing had somehow given, apparently intentionally, an extra kick and thrown her backwards.

She landed exactly, precisely, on the top of her head. I’m pretty sure I heard a snap, although I was too far away to have heard it.

I’m pretty sure it killed her.

Although younger, this woman looked very much like my new landlady, who was quite nice, but something indescribably just sits imperceptibly awkward with me.

I had many other dreams. Some were important – particularly one that I had about my brother.

Actually, there was nothing important about the dream, except that I dreamed about my brother, in a house I couldn’t recognize in my sleep, except that now I recognize it as our old house, where we grew up.

The rug was a lighter, beige color, and new. The bathroom fixtures had been replaced with something generic and white. I wonder if that is how it looks now. I hope whoever bought it falls down the stairs and dies.

The bathroom was on top of the stairs, and I went to take a shower. Once again,the shower flooded and there was water everywhere – that is the second time that has happened in my dream, I should look it up.

I went down to the kitchen, which honestly I never really recognize when I remember my old house, because my mother completely gutted it after I left home and I never quite got the hang of walking around in the house without my glasses after that, I would always walk into things unless I turned on the lights. My mother is blind and she should know how upsetting that is.

My brother was saying something to me, and I can’t remember exactly what he was saying, but it was something along the lines of it all being ok. I realize now that this was one of the only dreams I’ve ever had about my brother as an adult.

This made me cry

I should mention that I saw my Father yesterday. I’m ridiculously depressed and trying… I don’t know, just trying. Generally.

We had been at a show, in a huge theater. I feel like I had been at that auditorium before, but In feel like that was only in dreams as well. Let me first deal with this dream, before I wreck this memory by remembering what it reminds me of.

We sat in the front, toward the right. The theater was packed (as it usually is when I dream of this theater) and so some of us had to sit on the floor in the aisle.

When I say we, I am referring to a group of people, all of whom I know. One of them was a friend I haven’t seen since middle school, and I just looked up and she works at a hospital in North Carolina according to her LinkedIn (I have to get back on there…….) I hope she’s ok. We were dressed in the craziest 70’s inspired bellbottoms cheap 90’s costume quality repro getup and I have not idea what we were doing. Mostly girls, although I do remember one man, a black man who reminded me of my friend’s Haitian ex.

I really don’t know what we were watching in the theater, it felt like something that was mandatory.

I believe after, the crew that I was a part of supposed to go somewhere else. We walked out into the mall, which also looked like someplace I had been before. Sand colored granite and marble, with ostentatious gold filigree over everything. I believe I’ve been to a mall like this in Boston, or maybe DC. New York doesn’t indulge bullshit like that.

Anyway, we rode a long escalator (I believe it was the Prudential Center in Boston) and we got to the top. There was another ticket booth where we were all supposed to go through. Apparently whatever it was cost a dollar – everyone else had neat coupons from someplace that got them entrance, I could see that they were white with line green and navy blue writing on them. I did not have one, but tried to play it cool. I handed the ticket attendant 5 dollars, and she handed me back a bunch of change that included one big huge silver dollar yet in no way could have added up to $4. As the only person with cash (why does this always happen) I didn’t want to hold everyone up.

It occurs to me that I should check on my finances at some point.

We got through the turnstile, and then there was a few halls of fancy bathrooms with the same sand granite and marble , such as exist in the upper meeting floors of the Park Plaza. My friend’s Haitian Ex was playing ringleader, and told all of us ladies to “get ready and looking fresh” like some kind of pimp.

I’m pretty sure he was kidding, but then I woke up.

This is the point where I really should have gotten out of bed.

Today’s playlist reminds me of my ex, who I really should be calling.

I had one more dream to recount, but I believe I’m out of time and mental space for the day.