Recent DJ Posts

2022 May 8th

Fragment:

Something like NMS. Flying through space in a system of a few planets. There's a Dyson sphere surface (like in FL before entry) and there's a planet which just seems to be melding or embedded with the sphere surface (which in itself appears impossibly flat). Something feels slightly trippy as I start to warp towards this planet.

(recall gap)

Border control place, at an Arabic-looking kind of building. Some kind of ID is needed to enter this place, which is an unspecified foreign country.

(recall gap)

Then I'm in a drawing class. Feels like college but with a mix of university too. There are photocopies of classical Roman-themed drawings which are sitting upright on a conveyor system and going around the classroom. I'm late to the class and don't get a brief and such. I start trying to draw based on one drawing of a gladiator down on the floor, the composition is focused on his head, wearing one of those brass helms. (Like in Jean-Leon Gerome's "Pollice Verso")

I get about halfway through drawing this with a BIC pen and then somebody takes away the reference drawing I was using. I get annoyed by this and I try to simply wait to get it back and make attempts on my own to continue my drawing but it seems like it's not going to happen. I try to ask my tutor V for help but this doesn't go so well because he's trying to talk and me and others keep interrupting him and he forgets where he was with it, so he never really finishes circling around to any of us.

Then the class is ending and my drawing remains unfinished, even though I'd been trying to make do without the reference. As people are leaving, someone takes the drawing I was working on, though I don't realise at first. When I do realise, I get annoyed and a bit frustrated by how everything was going.

I just can't find the drawing anywhere and assume someone stole it. V and JC were waiting for me to finish looking because V was offering to give us a ride home and now they've been waiting a bit too long and just leave without me. It's now night time outside and there are other people around, so I am unable to distinguish who they are or where they went, in the dark.

At this point I try to reverse time, without much fine control over how much time to reverse. The dream ends after a failed attempt where I reverted time too much, I think.

Notes:

- The main "trippy" thing about what was going on in the first segment was more or less what I could only ever describe as a feeling of dread when I first played some games like FL and when I experimented with placing planets and objects in such ways that the effect was so unnatural and which meant that when physically navigating these instances in a ship created a feeling very much like a fear of unknown and a sensation like falling. I can't really describe the effect on me too well because it has always felt particularly unique and I've never heard any special term for it, so weak comparisons are the best I can do.

- I haven't thought much at all about something like the mentioned gladiator's painting for quite some time, though it is definitely amongst my favourites in paintings of such styles. The closest thing I can think of right now that has any associative resemblance would be thinking of a hairstyle for a character for H.
-- The other aspect of this in the segment, is that the drawn reference of the gladiator that I was looking at was exceptionally well drawn and originally in graphite. The dead gladiator's expression was that of shock, looking sideways to his right, which relative to the position of his head would be "up". The point of view was at eye level to the dead gladiator and there was a fracture or some other kind of damage to the helmet. I distinctly recall there being chainmail under his helm.

- The whole atmosphere to the drawing/college segment was one of a transitional phase, much like university actually had been. There was some dedication on my part but I was still not "in tune" with all of it. Although I do not recall exactly the quality of my own work too much in this segment, it wasn't too far off the original drawing I was looking at for reference. Symbolically, as this had the feel of a transitional phase and there are aspects of hindrances and frustrations, this is likely related to some of my current issues, which are not with some external factor this time but with an internal one, since it reflects the seriousness I want to put in while also reflecting something of myself to be lacking, with regards to having the required drive to push myself along where I want to go. (I am not feeling able to adequately express the sentiment of the relevance of this to myself right now)

- Again this dream shows a strong symbolic element relating to three principles; individuality, group and collective, which seem to be strongly recurring elements at present, or perhaps my mind is much more focused on noticing this type of recurring element lately.

I had a dream last night that seemed to be set in the current time. When the dream started, my sister and I were in my mom’s house and were taking stuff that had belong to my father that my mom had been hanging onto out of the house and loading it into the back of a pick-up truck that had been rented from U-Haul. We were working on cleaning-out closets that in current waking life are still full of stuff that belonged to him as well as going through dressers and pulling out clothes that could be donated to charity. My mom was in the house while we were taking stuff out of the truck, but wasn’t helping us with taking things out to the truck and sometimes would intercept me or my sister and question why we were getting rid of things rather than keeping them at her house. We kept trying to explain to her that it would be best to donate whatever we were carrying out at the time so that someone in need could use them rather than having them collect dust in the house. Most of them time, we were able to convince mom it was for the best to put the stuff in the truck to be donated rather than to hang onto it, but there was some stuff that mom was adamant that we hang onto.

Eventually, me and my sister had the bed of the truck loaded as full as it could be and were ready to take the load to a local charity to donate it. When we told mom that the truck was full of stuff, she told us to go ahead and get in the truck and that she would be out in a few minutes.

My sister and I then walked out of mom’s house to the new pick-up truck that had the U-Haul logo on it. When we got to the passenger side door, I opened it up and then stood off to the side so my sister could get in first. She didn’t take the hint and stood by the back of the truck. When I pointed to the bench seat, she told me it was her day to choose her seat and she wanted the window so I needed to sit in the middle. I get in the truck and put the grey lap and shoulder belt on and then my sister gets and buckled-up after closing her door.

Me and my sister then spend a long time in the cab of the truck waiting for mom to come out and drive us to take the stuff to donate. While we are waiting, my sister starts talking about our father and then starts trying to get me to share my feelings and talk about how I am doing dealing with things. I really do not want to talk about this as it is still too soon. As she keeps talking about this, her breath keeps getting worse and worse and is really overpowering and unpleasant to smell. I keep trying to change the subject, but she is fixated on talking about this so I am stuck listening to her talk about this and having to smell her breath. I stop responding to her, but she keep trying to get me to share my feelings and I keep having to smell her breath.

Eventually, we see mom walking out of the house and towards the truck. Rather than going to the driver side and getting I, she makes a beeline to the bed of the truck and starts going through the stuff that my sister and I have loaded in the bed while we sit in the cab and wait for her to get in. I see her take a handful of stuff from the bed of the truck back into the house. She does this several more times. Since the truck has electric windows, my sister and I cannot roll them down to try to stop mom and are stuck watching her take stuff we had loaded into the truck back into the house. While mom is doing this, my sister stops fixating on getting me to share my feelings on our fathers passing and we start taking about how frustrated we both are that it is so difficult getting mom to let go of anything. As we keep talking, my sisters breath no-longer smells really bad and I am able to have a conversation with her without even noticing it. The wait also doesn’t seem as bad as it did earlier in the dream since we are talking though things I find important.

While we are still talking, my sister elbows me and tells me mom is locking up the house and about to get into the truck and we need to stop talking about her. I then turn my head and see mom walking towards the cab of the truck and then unlocking and opening the driver side door. She then sits down in the driver seat on my left side and then closes her door.

While mom is working on getting the mirror’s adjusted, she accuses my sister and I of trying to get rid of some of our father’s stuff without asking her permission. As she keeps complaining to use, I notice her breath is even worse than my sisters was earlier in the dream. Mom keeps voicing her displeasure to use for several more minutes after she has the mirrors adjusted.

Eventually, she is done with her lecture and turns the key to start the truck. The battery sounds really weak and after a few cranks is completely dead. We all 3 get out of the truck and then mom decides this is some kind of sign that she is not supposed to get rid of dad’s stuff and tells my sister and I to take everything back into the house and put it where we found it. Both me and my sister have a really defeated feeling know that all of our work to go through our father’s stuff and get it donated to those who could use it was all for nothing and we now have to waste our time putting everything back in the house. I woke up from this dream while me and my sister were trying to talk mom into letting us donate some of the stuff that none of us would ever need and mom being insistent that we put it back where we found it.

I think this dream was definitely related to some real life frustration I am feeling with my mother hording all of my fathers stuff and refusing to deal with donating it to those who could really use it, especially in the current time when there are so many people in need.

06-17-2017 -- No idea where I am or what is really going on. This dream was earlier in the night, and I have had more time to forget it, and it made less actual sense, anyway. Somehow I am standing in front of a sort of farm plot that looks like a Runescape allotment patch, and I am sort of planting plants or pulling them up or something, except I think I am mystery shopping (or at least laying out my route for mystery shopping, which makes no sense. Doubly so, since I am stopping at every fourth plant, like I am laying out a tram line on Locomotion. Just very strange.

As I'm working on this, a friend walks up to me (it's probably Nick Vasile), asking me questions about electronics bits and things, and I am carrying a bunch of stuff with me. I have a computer, keyboard, drive, monitor, the whole line-up in my arms, and I also have a large white something (book? Drawing pad?) that I have found or purchased or whatever. The location stays largely the same (the farming patch is just there) even though the focus of the dream is changing, and I find that I am at a balloon convention or possibly a clown convention (I only see balloons, no other clown 'arts' being shown or talked about, but some people are wandering in clown makeup.)

The large white thing is now something clown-related, but still I have no clue what, and I am being warned by a couple of friends that the person who is in charge of the whole thing is somebody that doesn't like me. So I end up wandering off and just leaving my stuff sitting there, as I wander through a lot of the building, seeing a few people twisting balloons, and a couple of people giving lectures, and just wandering around a bit.

I spot the guy who is in charge (he looks like a thinner, younger Ronald Cross [who is/was probably a perfectly nice guy ... I don't know because I never had a conversation with him ... but something about his face always looked unhappy, in or out of clown make-up] and manage to avoid him, but it is getting more and more crowded, and to have more room, I start kind of jumping up on walls and things, and kind of flying around the place, maybe about fifteen feet in the air. Soon I'm being confronted by the guy who is in charge, and he is infuriated that I am flying around the place, because only he is allowed to fly around here! Since I am a far better flyer than the hypocrite, I decide to just ignore him, fly higher, until I am up in the ceiling, and he's struggling to follow me, and then just fly back to my stuff and leave.

So I make it back out of the building to the farm patch (which is finally not a farm patch, but a bunch of dealer tables set up outside) and am trying to gather my stuff back up together and stick it in a large backpack, and I turn out to be just in time, because a couple of people are poking through my stuff, thinking it is stuff being sold by the dealers, and I kind of have to pull it from their hands and explain "Um ... that's already mine, sorry." I'm trying to get my stuff together quickly enough to get out of there before the guy who doesn't like me can catch up, but Nick's computer has had a system crash, and he needs my help to copy over part of the system from my computer to repair his. Problem is, we may not even be using the same brand of operating system, which is just making things more troublesome.

Add to that, we're outside, and it has just begun to storm, with fairly heavy rain and lots of lightning starting to flash. I'm trying to pull the computer stuff under a small awning, and thinking it really is time to get out of here, when the punk leader shows up and starts making threats (yet is worried about the lightning, even as he tries to make light of the danger), when we are interrupted by somebody reporting the storm is causing mass flash flooding that is on it's way, and he points at a small hill a short distance away where I parked my car when I arrived this morning, and mentions anyone who is parked over there better get their cars moved before the flood waters arrive.

So I grab all my stuff best as I can, and start to fly over there, looking for my car as waters begin flowing into the area. You would think the hill, being higher ground, would be safe, but no such thing. The car park that was a flat collection of marked spaces this morning has turned into a multi-floor parking structure with all but the very top level being inside the hill, underground. Secondly, there are a tremendous number of cars, and like in another recent dream -here-, to fit them all in and save space, they've kind of been shrunk down. The waters are pouring in, the structure is being destroyed, and actually the whole scene looks a lot like that other dream, except this time we aren't in any danger, just our cars are being ruined.

So as I fly through this ever-more-flooded mess, looking for my car, the structure is getting deeper and deeper, and each time there is always another level to go down. The water is kind of reversing the shrinking process on the cars, but not properly, so you end up with cars that have returned to their normal size for most of the length of the car, but then perhaps the entire engine compartment will still be six inches deep, six inches tall, and about a foot wide, warping out to a normal-sized car. I'm having no luck finding my car because there are so many gray Toyotas in the world, so I start using my keys to try and beep the car, and each time I do, in the distance I can see a plume of water spray into the air. I approach the spray and finally find my car, in the deepest level of the structure, filled with water (hence the spray) and only half-unshrunk, and I pull it free and start trying to pull out the shrunk portions of the car and kind of shake it back into proper size and form. Weird.

Dreamed that I was preparing to go to some kind of cookout/horse race. I got out the pans for the cookout and they had not been cleaned since their last use when fish was cooked. They were dripping grease and were pretty gross. I was going to ride a motorcycle to the cookout but I had to do some maintenance on it like change the oil. My father was watching and he tried to step in when I spilled some oil but I told him I could do it myself. There was also a part where I was shopping for horse supplies. It seemed like I was planning to ride a horse in the race. Once I got to the race, I was not riding in it. Lots of people were having accidents and falling off their horses because someone had laid the track out in a circle instead of the usual oblong shape.

Also, had a dream where I was getting ready to go to a costume party. I was planning to dress up as Frankenfurter from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was trying to do a google search on my phone to find a picture of him but I kept mistyping his name. This “trouble using technology” has been a running theme in my dreams and I would like to transform it into a lucidity trigger if possible. I was also having a very hard time deciding what to wear. I had the white face paint on and I kept trying on different shirts, being careful not to mess up the face paint. There were other people around doing their own thing. At one point I asked someone for help removing a shirt. The whole dream had a vibe of frustration.

Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation

Karen and I are lying in bed and we are getting friendly touching one another. She then turns very angry and decisively try and perform oral sex on me. She is very angry and is trying to bite me, though I don't get the idea that she is trying to mutilate me. I try and fence her off a little – as I am not interested in having sex of any kind in this emotional state – but she keeps making her advances, and I keep trying to fend her off until I awake.

Immediate Interpretation: I have experienced a fear that Karen is engaging in sexual activities with me in a forced manner that is she is doing it either to avoid confronting an issue or to please my expectations. In this dream I see the aggressive push for oral sex as this fear of her trying to stifle communication of an emotional/personal problem – as she is blocking her throat chakra – and I feel irritated and misunderstood because she doesn't seem to understand that I am more willing to listen to her concerns regardless of what it may implicate for our sexual relation.

Note: When we had sex the night before and we were lying naked next to one another, looking into one another's eyes she looked away timidly and said “the bodily unrest is back now” and after looking at her and asking where it was, she went on “I had it silenced for a while there” in a cheeky tone. For this reason I think it is rather pointless looking up things and frankly this interpretation makes so much sense to me. Also the anger she is displaying in the dream is representative of my own budding anger at her not feeling comfortable with opening up to me about this bodily unrest, also because it might have implications for my actions – however she may simply not be aware of what it is.

Looking up themes: Willingness to receive pleasure – talking about sex. We are talking about sex and I am explicit about my attraction to her. It could represent the recent fascination with anal sexuality.

Increasingly frustrated, I was trying to rearrange the objects on the top shelf of the refrigerator. This was made challenging by the downward slope of the shelf and the fact that there was no raised lip at the front to catch things. It was also quite full, so the weight of the objects in the back was pushing down against the things in the front and knocking them off. My dad walked up as I was once again moving things around trying to find a more stable arrangement, so I complained to him:

"The fridge is full of bread—bagged bread! And milk." I screwed up my face, pronouncing "milk" with as much disgust as I could put into my voice. I've never liked milk, but thought I should provide a better reason for my objection. "The milk's going to go bad in a few days and then we'll have to throw it out."

"Room for more bread!" My father kept a straight face, but I was pretty sure he was teasing me.

"Look," I said impatiently, "If this is some kind of survivalist thing, we'd do better to stock complex carbohydrates than all this processed crap."

Dream 1:
Faffing about trying to move out of a building. My brother keeps running off to pack more things and I'm getting impatient.

Eventually we get going in a van that contains another van. My brother derives down the road at breakneck speed, barely missing cars at the junction at the bottom of the road. I tell him off for that.

Dream 2:
I've run out of clean undies (all packed in the van?) So I start looking for somewhere to hand clean some dirty undies. As I keep going, there are more and more bits and bobs in the sink, with people adding things as I try to clean everything and the sunk growing to accommodate the heaps of junk.

I came in from the outdoors, where I was doing something I can't recall now, and joined a group of other people in a room. It was like a big classroom, there were two or three dozen of us, and, we were each given papers relating to a long questionnaire with instructions for how to fill it out. There was a white sheet, a green sheet, maybe even a blue sheet with the actual questions, and a portion to be answered by computer, and the instructions were very confusing. The white sheets were all pre-marked with answers from various previous respondents -- different for every sheet -- which made things even more confusing. "So are we supposed to put our answers on the green sheet only, the computer only, or duplicate them on both?" After asking a lot of questions along these lines I went to a smaller room and got started. There was a middle-aged Asian guy sitting in a chair who had already gotten through a few questions.

The first question asked me about the window curtains in the room, and a display of copper figures set up on the window ledge. I was to axamine these first, then return and answer some questions about them. I examined them and was able to ascertain that they portrayed the flight of Helen and Paris to Troy, the event that led to the Trojan war. While I was studying, them, the aministrator of the questionnaire (a middle-aged white guy with a stern military bearing but remarkable patience for my constant questions and expressions of disgust at the confusing protocols) came into the room to see how we were doing. He gave us further advice not to answer the questions in such a way that we would incriminate ourselves, The Chinese guy nodded ruefully as though he had already made that mistake. "I haven't even finished the first question yet!" I exclaimed, frustration in my voice. Even the first question was so complex it was taking forever. "I'm supposed to examine this tapestry first!" I was tempted to point out that I would probably be here until late at night, well after the others had all left, which I assumed meant that the administrator wouldn't be able to go home either, but figured it was too early to say for sure. So instead I just complained, "And why does it start with question 'B'"? Indeed the very first question was labeled "B". I was afraid my tone be too irritable and anger the administrator, but he just nodded sympathetically and left.

I turned to the text of the actual question. It said that the copper figures on the windowsill had been made in the 13th century by an artisan named "Jason" something. I wondered why such old pieces had been gathered here, in this unremarkable building, instead of in a museum somewhere. Then the question went on to suggest that the identification of some of the figures had changed over the years, and asked which ones I thought they were. I had noticed that some of the figures had small white sticky labels with the names of the characters handwritten on them, so I concluded that these must be the ones that needed special identification, likely because they had previously been understood differently. So I wrote something to that effect on the green sheet, trying to keep my answer concise because the form only provided a single line to write on.

Then I moved to the second question. It was more abstract. It was something along the lines of, "If you are in a building and instructed to find room 190B, where would you look?" (I'm not sure of the exact number; it was a 3-digit number followed by the letter 'B'.) I had a brief vision of an exit that led directly outside, thus evidently on the ground floor. I was starting to wonder if these were all trick questions. Feeling sarcastic and and annoyed, I wrote: "Is this a Google application?" (I've heard that Google tests potential applicants with puzzles, though we had been told the questionnaire was just a standard performance measure.) I thought the vision of the ground floor might be deliberately misleading, and remembered how the numbering of soom buildings got confusing because they were built on a slope so the ground level was different on either side, and wrote next, "Is the building on a hill?" I reckoned then that the "B" might be significant and provide the easiest answer to the question, which didn't ask which floor the room was on, after all, only where to find it. The number itself might be a red herring. So I concluded my response with "Is there a 190A?" I wondered if it would be acceptable to answer the question with three questions of my own, but given how irritating this questionnaire was, I decided that I would not restrain myself from responding sarcastically when the question was vague.

Note: still no proper dream, never mind LD, but it's only the 3rd day after all... gotta have patience!

Date: Apr 20
Sleep Length: 4h + 3h (7h)
Techniques: DILD + WBTB
I just wanted to sleep. WBTB was a mistake.
I did lots of RC and Daytime Awareness before.
Dream Summary:
You can't call that a dream. I simply remember I was being a girl... for some reason. I'm not transgender, but I was being a girl.
edit: I just remembered I was wearing a shirt with a quote by someone called Harry or Henry, it was something satiric or cynic, and a friend of mine (L.R.) asked me if I was wearing a shirt by that Harry/Henry and we were talking about it
*happy that I suddenly remembered another fragment*
Vividness (1-15), Awareness (1-10), Length (min): 0/0/0
Emotions: none
Signs: none
Tags: transsexual?, girl

Part one is a short one because part two is much, much more vivid. But anyways, I continue use of my MILD mantra before dozing off.

I'm watching basketball on television in a living room at what I feel like is my parents' house (I'm the only person in this dream). I'm also aware that I'm cooking something in the adjoining kitchen, so I'm not completely engrossed in the game.

In the basketball game, I know it's the Boston Celtics against the Miami Heat -- two teams that I root against. A lot of sequences involve LeBron James guarding Jason Terry (for the 99.9999% of you who don't watch the NBA, if this was a chess match, this is like watching a world-class chess player defending against a carrot), and Jason Terry is doing frustrating Jason Terry things that is frustrating because frustrating people is how frustrating Jason Terry frustrates. He's over-dribbling, driving into crowds, doing useless spins, putting up contested fadeaways... only it's all somehow fucking working. Seeing how I dislike Miami marginally more so than Boston, I root for the carrot despite my objections as a basketball fascist.

Anyways, I remember that I have a pot of broth on the stove; and when I go check, the broth is bubbling (but not going nuts). I manage the heat a little, and then I wake up.

The odd thing is, when I woke up at whatever dumb time it was, I got this overwhelming sense of melancholy about missing my parents, watching basketball, and cooking -- except that I stayed over at my parents house, watched basketball, and helped cook dinner that exact same night.

Oct 21:
A combination of C and T are terrorizing everyone in high school by just seeing how much they can get away with -- not that far-fetched from real life. He/They are armed with a whipped cream/silly string shooter -- again, this is exactly the kind of shit they'd pull -- and randomly shoots at the other students walking by. When he targets me with the silly string, I stiff arm and deflect the cream-beam with a single outstretched hand, like Darth Vader blocking Han Solo's blaster shots, while trying to explain that he is acting like an idiot. I'm not sure how long this lasts, but it felt like a really long time. At one point, my old friend K tells me something along the lines of "it's no use talking to him" while I'm still blocking the stream (which has been continuous this entire time), but I was determined to resolve this like an adult.

Dream two has me sleeping in my room at my house, and at a God-awful time, my mom begins running up and down the stairs that's right outside my door as a form of exercise. I voice my objections, but she just comes and sits on my bed and asks me if I know the old Chinese story of Hou Yi shooting down the suns. All I could think about was how she's getting sweat on my bed while I keep telling her that yes, I know, please let me go back to sleep.

In a bit of an ironic twist, I wake up from that.

Oct 22:
I could barely remember any of my dreams. The furthest I got was about wanting to find something at work. Bleh.

I was in some house and had picked up a cute kitten, but it spit up all over me.

[Gap]

I'm going into a bathroom to shower it off of me. It got all over my clothes. But mom wants to take a shower too.

It's a big shower with brown tiles. But I'm alone then, and getting really frustrated as I look for the shampoo but can't find it. I get out of the shower (my hair is soaked) and start going through a bunch of stuff on the sink. I find two short, slim bottles of what is apparently shampoo and conditioner.

Just as I find a bottle of Pert, though I'm unsure if it's the same kind I use, some people come in, completely ignoring me as one of them throws a couple of mattresses right in the space where the shower is.

Note: I remember being half-awake and kicking my legs out in my frustration!

i am at a place with a school type feel with people rushing around me to get to their classes, i walk up to a person with short brown hair who is wearing a red t-shirt and ask if they want to buy something. i pull a small plastic sphere out of my pocket and as i do this they walk away. i make my way through the crowd and with a little difficulty finding it i walk up to a tall green locker and open it, i put the plastic ball inside and pull out mostly empty cup of coffee, frustrated i say "dang!" and turn the cup upside down splattering a little bit of coffee onto the clean blue and white tiled floor. feeling foolish i realize that there was some in the cup and take the last sip it will provide, (i then slowly drift away and awake)

13.11.2011

Specks of Light (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Constant tracing.

Stuck between infinitely constraining parameters.

This is my dream.

Again.

And again.

And again I trace, searching for a way out, a way to break free, but there is none. I'm confined within myself, and I WON'T FUCKING HAVE IT!

I call death upon my constraints, little points of light, wiped out of existence, one by one until only a void remains in my rampage. But soon it's filled, as millions upon millions of shimmering lights are drawn around me.

I could do it; wipe them all out in a single swipe. . . but what are they? Why did wiping those other specks tear at me the way it did?

I'll stop. . .

For now.

Dream - Lucid

I was in a classroom somewhere. I was given a test to take. For some reason, I was really, really angry. I kept trying to scream and yell, but it was like I had drainage in my chest and my voice was all raspy.

Then, I figured out why I was so damn angry: My parents had gotten a divorce, and my dad was about to marry my uncle's ex-wife (who is dead in waking life). I was so pissed. I couldn't believe my dad would do that. I couldn't even believe my parents weren't together anymore. I was RAGING.

I was then in a garage. It reminded me of a garage we had in a different house. It was daytime outside. My dad and my uncle's ex-wife were trying to set up for the wedding, which was going to be held in the fabulous garage. My brother was there too, helping them set up. I refused to help them set up. I was so angry. I kept trying to yell "Fuck you!" and "You're a bitch!" and various other profane statements, but I still couldn't yell. That made everything so much more frustrating. I then tried to punch a wall, and it was like punching through water; when I hit the wall, I just tapped it because of all the resistance I was experiencing. I tried again and again, and I couldn't punch the damn wall. SO FRUSTRATING.

At one point, I had an empty water bottle that I had written "Fuck you" in black marker around the mouth. I put it in the garage. When I came back in there at another point, it was on the floor.

I then went inside and saw my grandpa eating lunch and reading the paper. I gave him a big hug. It was the only thing that happened that was good. I didn't let him go for a bit.

I then hadn't talked for awhile. I was in another room with my brother. I was trying to tell him how angry I was about the whole thing. I started yelling my profanities again, and this time, I could yell because my voice had had a rest. It felt so good to yell and get my anger out. I knew it wouldn't be long though until my voice went out again.

This happened again at some point, and in the garage, I did manage to get a few choice words out, but not many, because my voice quickly went out again.