The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Dreams, Schemes, and Fiends written @ 8:03 PM on May 07, 2003 I have been having odd dreams lately, and they're leaving me wondering if I should call the CIA or something. You know they've gotta be strange if a) I remembered them and b) I've devoted an entry to them. These dreams have dealt with Syria-- of all fuckin' places. What's odd about it is that I've not read much on the new scuffle my oh-so-brilliant country is getting into with Syria. Anyway, in one dream I gave shelter to these strangers that came off the street in my NJ house from years ago. I put them all down in the basement with my family, and I closed the door after telling them to stay down there. There was a siren going off, and the skies were dark and overcast-- like it was a tornado warning. Only foreign jets were flying overhead and dropping bombs on Philadelphia in the distance. The radios from the abandoned cars in the middle of the streets were warning of a Syrian attack, and that everyone should take shelter. But, being the incredibly brave and courageous warrior woman that I am, I was outside watching the skies. They began bombing the neighborhood, and all I did was stand there and watch. Eventually my mom came to the front door and began yelling at me to get inside. Then the house blew up, but everyone survived. The second dream was, once more, with Syria. I dreamt Syria had launched a biochemical attack on the US. Can't remember any particulars, but that's essentially what happened. Odd, ain't it? I'm thinking about calling the CIA. Can't be too safe anymore, ya know? *** The theater formal was Monday night. And-- you'll all be proud of me-- that was my first official college party, complete with all the booze and debachery that tends to go with those sort of things. I'm still in shock over some of the things I experienced, so there will be no entry dedicated to that social fray. I did have a good time-- but damn. It was one of those moments where I stood back and said to myself, "Wow. I've led a sheltered life." Dolan wanted me to leave yet acknowledged it was up to me. He kept pulling at my shoulders all night. He was especially leery toward the guys who asked me to dance. Yes, a few did. They said, "I hope I will get the opportunity to dance with you by the end of the night, Sam." That was all good and well. I told them I would. But by the end of the night they were so drunk that I was not about to submit to anything or anyone. What can I say? I have come to the conclusion that I don't do well in large social settings where everyone drinks out of control. There were beings of the paranormal sort standing in that room who distressed me, to top things off. I tell you, the energy coursing through that bar was not positive, and it was not of my own fashioning. *** I began reading "Child of the Prophecy," which is book three in the Sevenwaters Trilogy by Juliet Marillier. And let me tell you that she is an absolutely fabulous author, and, after the horrors of "Anna Karenina," it is truly thrilling to be back to fantasy once more! *** My heart is light this evening. Outside the rain comes down softly and makes the leaves on the tree outside my window gleam. Dolan stands behind me, forever watchful. The evening draws forth, and the sky turns from steel gray to rose. A peace associated with a dying day settles over the campus. It is so beautiful outside.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
Latest Entry | Archives | Diaryland |
Profile | Diaryrings | |
Guestbook | E-mail Me | Leave a note |
Art Work (Coming Soon) | Genealogy (Coming Soon) | The-Last-Unicorn.net |