หน้าของฉันกับชายชราอยู่ใกล้กันมาก โดยมีขอบเตียงกั้นไว้ ฉันพยายามเพ่งมองผ่านความมืด ใบหน้าของเขาเหี่ยวย่นนัยตาของเขาเต็มไปด้วยความโมโหร้าย ฉันไม่รู้ว่าเขารู้หรือเปล่าว่าเขาทำให้ฉันตื่น แต่เขายังคงเขย่าเตียงต่อไป ฉันกลัวมาก ฉันไม่กล้าแม้จะขยับตัวหรือส่งเสียงใดๆ ฉันพยายามหายใจให้เบาที่สุด แล้วหลับตาลงและขอให้นี่เป็นเพียงความฝัน
My face was very close to his face.There was a barrier impede between us.I tried to looked at him from the dark.His face was very sallow.His eyes was full with irritable.He woking me up.I don't know do he knew that.I was really scare and tried to not make anymove or any sound.I tried to breath quiet as much as I could.I closed my eyes and wish this was just a dream.
I told him to leave me alone 3 months ago, I told him I would not survive his next attack in tears.. that he needed to walk away and let me be.. I told him I would NOT SURVIVE HIS NEXT ATTACK.. he knew and still destroyed me ON PURPOSE... Why? I cannot find an answer.. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.. why monster, why? I cannot forgive myself because I knew he would hurt me, yet I allowed it again and gave him another chance for 347958316 time...
~ They say if you dream about something more than once, it's sure to come true ~
Personally, I really hope this isn't the case as I dream about mushrooms growing out of a cut on my leg far to often 😐🍄🙅🏼 .
💭 who else has messed up dreams like this? Please tell me I'm not the only one 🙏🏼
| November 23, 2017 |
A Tribute to Thanksgiving:
I woke up and went for a run.
The Turkey Trot. Simple, innocent.
But some places choose a name of honor, The Indian Run.
Chose to honor when the lionhearted believed the immigrant,
When everything that has happened hasn't yet been done.
We gather around a table to eat.
But only in America, a holiday to mark a descent.
Where handing out pumpkin and corn and barley and wheat
Became anger not on mood or tone but color and accent.
Native Americans invited the white, then led them to feast.
They shared their secrets and believed their lies, we were assured.
We opened doors to a feral beast.
And now we are honored. Honored in schools with teepees and construction paper hats.
Honored when one paints there skin red,
Honored when we are portrayed as savages shaking hands with diplomats.
Honored with National Indian Day, as if that would erase our dead.
As if wearing a mask with red paint and black lines is enough.
As if putting fake feathers and fuax leather on is fine.
Like dressing as me makes you 'Indian', as saying Native is too much.
And you create a world washed with the color of aged dark wine
And define it as thanks for our families
Like a whole nation didnt just open the floodgates to a world.
Like you weren't going to wreck a people and their nationality
Like we were a soul family without blood yet to be hurled.
And now we are imitated and duplicated.
We see whites dress as 'Indians'
And our story isnt told but shown as uncomplicated.
Shown without the fear or unnerve or stoic of the 'Indians'
Instead we are savages who now eat not with our hands,
Who gave food out of peace and kindness and generosity
Because thats what we were. We lived without no futuristic plans,
We lived with life and when they gathered us to feast, it was a precourse for their cruelty.
Of course, Thanksgiving is all family.
A time to eat and share and give thanks.
But listening to what us taught about that day...
People make a costume out of the 'Indian'. #dream#dreamer#insanedreams#letmetellyouastory#storytime#nightmares#dreams#ingelosidreams#mishacollins#mydream#original#f4f#followme#newaccount
It's been 6 months. I have somewhat reoccurring nightmares that my parents have also passed. I'm just scared of losing them and other family and regret not spending enough time with them. I lost my grandfather 4 years ago, but losing my grandmother seemed to have nudged me farther. Processing this life experience is new to me.
The places I inhabit in my dreams have become increasingly urban and chaotic. Shopping centres, multi-story parking lots, libraries, train stations, supermarkets, concrete high rises, subterranean tunnels, galleries and chaotic city streets. Often I am literally trapped in these places, due to hostage situations, collapsing buildings, earthquakes, assassination plots, dystopian universes and evil global conspiracies. These are all places that I live and work in every day, but in my dreams they take a nightmarish turn. Entrapment, alienation, boredom, nausea, anxiety, paranoia, ennui, frustration and fear are all states that take on a heightened form in my dreams. And now I need to find a way out of this living nightmare.