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LuckyIrishCharm
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Name: Sarah
Gender: Female
Interests: Poetry, Aikido, writing, Aikido, friends, Kelly, parties with Aikido friends, Aikido, reading, Kelly...
Expertise: Being an expert at something takes way to much work.
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
2/10/2004
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| I have weird dreams... I have vivid dreams sometimes, I don't remember them a lot of the times... This is one I had last night.
Background:
In my pottery class, there is this AMAZINGLY gorgeous man who goes to my school also. His name is Matthew... only that he has a beautiful, buttery, deep voice; thick, dark-rimmed glasses that frame gorgeous eyes; a tall and well built body; and beautiful art. Anyway, he's amazing.
The Dream:
So this guy was (I think) a murder who changed his victim's sex's before (or after) he killed them. He got a swift reprimand and had to say he was sorry to some big clubs. I was his friend (well... kind of... I did stuff for him, run errands, stuff like that). I had a hidden crush on him and I didn't know how to approach it. Odd and I were friends also and I shared my love of him. She saw him and INSTANTLY fell in love also, only because he was hot. I liked him because he was hot, smart, funny, creative, and nice. I don't know how, but it came to be that we were both dating him (okay by all three parties). Because I didn't really know how to show my affection, I'd do things for him (like go around and get signatures on forms for him) and while I was away, he'd spend time with Odd. I was jealous, of course, because it's Oddri and I expected that he would fall madly in love with her and forget all about me... that would be the case for any guy. I was angry not at Odd, but at myself for not knowing how to do that... I didn't know how to be attractive and seductive and everything else and I just felt awful! I couldn't tell Odd because she's my best friend and if she likes him, then I should get in the way of what she wanted, even if it meant that I couldn't have it.
So one day, he was doing some community service and something fell on him. In my dream it was just a big white block. It pretty much crushed him from the waist down and he was in excruciating pain. I ran to his side and Odd went to go get help. While she was away I tried to comfort him as best I could. I finally said, "I wish we could trade spots so that I was under there and you wouldn't have to be in pain." I suppose me saying it was the key because there I was, under that block, with him where I was. The pain was terrible, my bones were crushing and pulling my muscles and ligaments. My pelvis was slowly cracking and I could feel myself dying. He just stood there (well, squatted) and looked at me with this incredulous look in his eyes and he asked hoarsely, "Why?" I just looked at him with a confused look and said, "Why wouldn't I?"
It was so weird to feel that... to know that you would do anything for someone, and then you do. The look in his eyes was so... sad. It was as if he'd do the same for me if he could. It was like, last minute, he realized what he had lost, what he had found too late. And I, it was as if my life was alright now that I knew that I had made my point... it didn't matter that I was dying, that I would never be able to walk IF I survived... all that mattered was that he heard and understood how much I cared and he returned some of the affection. It was the most morose happiness I have ever felt.
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| I am Buddhist again.
Damn.
It makes so much sense...
If you want info, talk to me.
Jeff is cute.
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| 2nd blog in a day. This is stupid. I do feel better now since I wrote my last silly and stupid post, thing (Well, the last two, actually), but the issue is still there. Ich liebe Deutsches! Ich liebe... Geschlecht! Ja! Das Geschlecht ish sehr gut... es fühlt gut weil es das Geschlecht ist. Props to anyone who understood that without the use of a translator (online, real person, or book). I'm sorry to the people who use a translator and to those who look at the screen blankly. I won't give you props, though. I realize, I write well when I'm depressed. I'm very poetic and things flow, like my pirate post. I still think it's brilliant. No one else seemed to think so, but I thought it was a work of modern-analogical-essay genius! Again, no one else thought so. And also! Another genius depressed essay starting out with, "I am a Child of God..." my first GodsMutant post I think... hmm. It was so... good! Sure, it was raw and needed polishin in some places, but it was incredible! My analogies, my poetic sentences, my immaculate word choice! Goodness... And then I get happy and things just start to suck again. Maybe it's also that I wrote them at night. I flow at night. I'm nocturnal. The sun gives me a headache. I want a class from... 9PM to 11PM. Good times. The best times are 12AM~3:45 AM. 4AM~5:45AM just sucks. "I should be sleeping, but I'm not" hours. Well, I'm going to go re-read my depressing masterpieces. Don't be too dramatic. -Fergison
(AGAIN!) | | |
| It's interesting the things you see in your mind. Sometimes a vivid imagination is good. For example, I know alot of people who see an entire setting and possibly a story when I say something like, "toad". The image is so real that it stirs something inside of them, like they are actually standing in their own setting. It can be an incredible gift.
To me, it is an incredible curse.
My mind does not create happy images, well, it can and will, if I make it, but the really emotion-inspiring images come from negative input. And so, someone says "blood" and suddenly, there is, not only an entire setting around me, eerie and creepy, something that makes you sick to just look at because you know something terrible is going to happen, but there are also characters, horrible images that I can't draw or describe. They haunt me. All of them, clawing at me and slowly tearing me apart and in the most gruesome, painful way possible. I feel every little wound. I get lost in my head and try to fight away the terrible monsters that live there.
That is my curse. I get hit, sometimes, because something triggers it. It takes a few days to get out of the slup and I feel... lost and numb... and yet I hurt.
Damnit. Excuse me. I'm complaining about a problem that isn't as bad as I make it sound. Sorry. | | |
| http://www.ucc.ie/international/docs/applicationUS0607.doc
That's my application form.
That's my School.
That's my city.
This is also my city.
This is ALSO my city.
That is me (with fat wrists)
My School : University College Cork (UCC)
My City : Cork City, Ireland
Me : Sarah King.
I am SOOO phyched! like... -gasps for air-
I printed out an application. I can make it in with a sinch. They require a 3.0 GPA. That'll be no problem.
Oh my... I can't breath... | | |
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