I quote the movie, Office Space, when I say that I lead a "trite and meaningless life." I don't care to explain it but someday I'll look back on this post and remember how unhappy I am today. Sometimes I overlook the most obvious things because I don't care to believe them. I need to seriously examine my life.
By the time the receiving line had ended, the bride and groom's thanks sounded trite and tired.
I had a dream about a man. It wasn't really about a man. There was a man in my dream. I wanted to die. I am not sure the reason; I can't remember. Maybe I didn't even have a reason.
The man knew what I wanted. He cut me with a razor blade. It was a superficial wound. It didn't bleed much and it was not deep. But it did break the skin. It was a short cut that he made on my chest.
I realized that I didn't want to die, or maybe I just realized that I wasn't going to. I found out there were people worried about me. Marie was looking for me. She wrote a letter either to me or about me. I didn't read it. Her father wanted to talk to me and ask me what was going on with me.
Still the dream left me perplexed. Who was this man...
Posted by elsie at February 23, 2006 12:26 AM