The night before last I had a dream.
I had a dream that it was my birthday.
And on my birthday, I was going to go to a restaurant to celebrate with my family. I was going to drive there alone.
And while driving there, I realized there was a festival in town. A festival where some of my friends would be, and where some of my favorite performers would be. I decided to swing by just to say hi, but didn't call my family to let them know I might be a little bit late.
When I got there, I met up with my friends and said hi and such.
Then the zombie apocalypse happened. I survived it mostly by hiding under a blanket, because my dream logic was that the fabric of the blanket would prevent their scrabbling hands from opening up my belly and eating my insides. These were not very strong zombies, I suppose, so if they couldn't get purchase on me then they couldn't eat me.
Somewhere along the way, I found a "Japanese" house I could take shelter in. When I say "Japanese," I don't mean that is what my brain told me it was and not that it was actually based on the actual structure of stereotypical Japanese buildings. Someone was already living there, but they agreed to let me hang out until things blew over.
But there was a problem.
Because a gnome lived in their house, too. It was not a nice gnome. The gnome stole my shoes, and kept trying to attack me, so I ran away and went back to hiding from zombies underneath a blanket.
But then Adam Driver and some of his friends found me, and Adam Driver helped me look for my shoes and acted like it was totally normal that a gnome stole them. He was more concerned that they were not good shoes to wear during a zombie apocalypse, because they were nude-colored (?). After we found my shoes, I told him I was very late for my birthday dinner party with my family and that I needed to go see them. And then, even though I didn't park my car in a parking garage, Adam walked me to one and asked Oscar Isaac to help me find my car and my keys.
More strange dreams!
So I have this thing where I can dream in one setting and then not dream again in it for years and years, but when I do, I instantly remember everything that happened before. I'm not sure if it's been a long time since I dreamt in the setting I was in last night, but either way- that same sort of thing happened. I can't control my dreams, so going back to a setting isn't anything I have any power over and it's not a choice I make.
Anyway, in this setting I'm a boy (I'm actually a female if anyone is wondering, I know there tends to be great confusion circulating around this) living with his mom and sister, only in a previous dream my sister had been stolen by Satan. For whatever reason, I was convinced that I could find her if I investigated the sewers that were beneath my house, and in a previous dream I had done this as well. It was a maze, and it was very confusing, and I always had a camera with me so I could retrace my steps if necessary. Although I got lost sometimes, I also always found my way out.
My mom knew about this, and in the dream I had last night we had a conversation about it. She had a tracker on me, apparently, and was concerned because I would be down there so long that my camera battery was ready to die, or I got so far away that even if I really did make it out of the sewers I might wind up lost on the surface somewhere, out in the wilderness or in a town I didn't know or something.
I don't really have anything to say to her about this, because I'm determined to find my little sister and plan on continuing to investigate in the sewers.
And then I'm in the sewers again! Only I have no camera this time. It's very alarming as a result, since I don't have any light to work by. I start exploring through some of the places I have already been through, but then begin taking paths within those areas that I hadn't looked into before. I notice that things are starting to become strange, like I'd find little quivering clumps of blood and bones on the floor, which would then explode like some creature from the deep once taken to the surface. It wasn't a violent explosion, they just kind of went pop and bleeeehhhh all over. It was gross, but I kept going.
Eventually there were structures in the sewers that shouldn't be in the sewers, like wooden walls and things of that nature. I eventually came upon a series of bathroom stalls, and in them I found one of my classmates from school. Not like, a fake classmate made up for this dream setting, but an actual classmate from a school I have gone to. This person wasn't anyone I particularly liked because he was an asshole, but none the less he was like "WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!" and my reaction was "k." We try to make it out of the sewers, and then after a series of even more ridiculous events and more exploding blobs, I suddenly realize that I'm dreaming. I don't have my camera with me, and there was no way I'd be in the sewers without it. My classmate is someone who lives clear on the other side of the country and there's no way he'd be here either, and also I found him in a bathroom. In the sewers. Har har har. So, upon realizing this is a dream, I wake up.
Cue a strange interlude where I'm in the kitchen with my grandma and grandpa, and we're watching a family of bigfoot play with goats outside our window. We lived in a fucking cul-de-sac and don't have any farm animals, so I'm not sure where either the bigfoot or the goats came from. I'm looking at them with my grandpa while my grandma is fiddling about with something, and just as we call her over she misses seeing them.
Anyway, something about this interaction or the dream or maybe both makes me understand what I have to do in order to get my sister back, or perhaps I understand that I'm never going to get her back. Either way, I know what I'm going to do next. I take my camera and head into the sewers, where my mom follows me. I take the original path that I had taken in my dream, but instead of things getting weird I just am lead to a hallway with a few rooms in them. The doorways are all pitch black, but some of them have strange textures to the blackness. I didn't know which one to go in, but picked the blackest of the black and went in there. I fell into a room with a bed, a window, and a black gelatinous blob on the floor.
I immediately understood that this black blob was Satan, and that I had weakened him somehow???- perhaps by understanding earlier that I had been caught in a dream, and woke up from it. Anyway, I took out a knife and chopped up jello-Satan into a bunch of tiny pieces, and then smooshed him into the carpet so he couldn't go anywhere. And then my mom showed up with a carpet washer, and she sucked him up out of the carpet.
We were going to make further efforts to take care of Satan, but then I heard voices in reality which made me wake up.
I'm very tired from all this and don't feel like I got much sleep. >(
I'm feeling a little like burnout's creeping up on me, but I'm not sure it's entirely that since I haven't exactly been doing a whole lot of work or anything lately. I think I'm mostly putting nonsensical and invisible pressure on myself, because I have such high expectations for myself and always expect myself to be working towards them. I don't really know how to relax, and "relaxing" makes me feel kind of panicky because oh my god I'm not getting anything done.
I also have the last bits of school coming up, and I suppose I might be kind of anxious about that.
I'm drowning myself in House of Cards to try and cool off a bit. I started rewatching it some time ago and I think I'll feel better if I "complete" it again. Leaving things unfinished drives me batty.
You guys might not think that the dream where someone peed on my bed was a nightmare, but it totally was okay. Anyway, since so many people seemed to enjoy my ridiculous dream, I thought I would share another one. It wasn't one that happened recently, but it still sticks out in my mind as being very memorable.
A player from one of my forums invented a new kind of pet lizard. And hey, I like lizards, so I wanted to have one. But because I am me, before I could purchase one, I had to do all the possible research on this lizard possible. Unfortunately, the internet did not have much that was helpful. However, the owner of Icyboards, Spork, had written a book about caring for the lizard. The book, unfortunately, cost something ridiculous, like 3000 USD. And even though I'm a moderator at Icyboards, apparently I couldn't just ask Spork for a copy of the book because I hate nepotism. However, I wasn't going to pay that much money for a damn book about lizards, so I resolved to drive to the factory that printed them to see if I might be able to buy a copy for a reduced price (for no reason other than I'm awesome and should receive a discount, apparently).
So I have no idea where I was living at the time, but whatever, I drove to the factory in Missouri. It was in a slow and sleepy little town that looked like it was struggling. I find a place to park outside the factory. The parking lot is shaped like an L, and I park at the short end of the L, which is attached to the road. At the long end of the L is the entrance to the factory, which also has a little store front. Parked in the long part of the L is another car, and leaning against the car's back bumper is just a dude staring at the store. I don't really pay much mind to him as I walk up to the store front, which, to my dismay, I see is closed for business and appears to be abandoned.
The exact book I want is right there in the window, and although I consider breaking the glass and stealing the book, I don't. I make a sad remark to the other guy in the parking lot that that was the book I wanted and that it's only for sale at a very high price on the internet. The guy nods and agrees that this sucks.
I turn to walk away, and as I do this he says to me: "I'll pay you forty dollars for all your baby teeth."
I'm mildly freaked out about this and try to think of something to say. Because I'm smart, I say: "No thank you, I don't have any left." THAT'LL SHOW HIM.
And I hurry to my car, very scared now. I'm fumbling with my keys as I try to unlock the door, and in the metal of the lock I see the guy show up behind me just like I knew he was going to. He didn't say anything, but stabbed me with a really long needle in the kidney or something, and I said, very loudly: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
The pain was so acute that I actually said "ow" in real life, and it was the sound of me very blandly going "ow" which woke me up.
So there you have it. Another silly GR dream.
Whenever I don't get to share a bed with my SO, for whatever reason, I tend to have pretty strange and wacky dreams. For the last two nights this has been the case.
I rage quit on my dream last night because in my dream, we had a guest over. There's no other way to say it- our guest was morbidly obese, but was still capable of walking herself around. She announces to everyone: "I've got to pee." So she gets up. Walks into my room. Lies down on my bed... AND PEES ON IT.
RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. ME.
I'm quite upset about this for obvious reasons and am like "YO. Why the fuck you peein' on my bed?" Actually, that's the nice version of what I said. I made her feel very bad, but instead of just being sad, she tried to argue back with me. ABOUT WHY IT'S OKAY TO PEE ON MY BED. It's fine to pee on my bed, she says, because it's hard for her to sit on a toilet. This made me go quiet for a second, because okay, honestly, a big part of my line of work is helping people sit on a damn toilet LOL, and then I remembered, BITCH I SAW YOU WALK IN HERE AND CLIMB ONTO MY BED which seriously in all honesty cannot be any easier than sitting on the shitter, and so instead of arguing with her further I just legit rage quit on my own dream and woke up.
OMG. I'm still worked up about it. Guys, I love sleeping literally more than anything else I'm not even kidding so PEEING ON MY BED IS JUST ABOUT THE BIGGEST SIN YOU CAN COMMIT AGAINST ME, DON'T DO IT.
The stuff in my grandma's lungs is benign, according to the results of her PET scan. My mother says her doctor is a jerkface but my grandma was a nurse and is also a jerkface, so I imagine if she felt like he wasn't giving her the appropriate amount of care and consideration that she'd sock him in the jaw.
I'm starting to feel better ever since I told my mother that I resent her LOL. I don't necessarily feel good about telling her that I resent her, but it was a lot of formless negative energy associated with her that I think I was able to let go of when I told her. I know that she did her best and my feelings for her were very juvenile. But that's the thing about emotions, did you know? They don't mature with the rest of you. If someone hurt you when you were six and you've never forgiven them, your hurt is still going to be the type of hurt a six year old has. It's a little silly, how humans do.
I'm still a little uneasy, I suppose. My grandmother has some nodules in her lungs that they're doing tests on. My grandma's very important to me. I don't want to receive any comments about this because I won't be able to handle them LOL, but I needed to say something.
I'm also a little uneasy about my internship. Found out that it's going to be in the psychiatric ward of the hospital nearby. I'm very tired right now and don't know if I have the energy to deal with that, but I felt that way about my last internship as well and it wasn't so bad. There really aren't any less-intensive alternatives either. I wonder if I might just be worried about meeting the staff there. They always want to talk with me and have me tell them about myself and fuck, I'm boring LOL.
I tell people I love them (as a friend) a lot and that I care about them because I think it's important to. It weirds some folks out, and that's okay. It can't hurt to tell someone that you care about them. But it can hurt for a person to go around thinking that no one cares at all.
For some people, hearing that they're cared for might be the only nice thing they hear all day.
Moral (or ethical) relativism is a branch of philosophy with a few different schools of thought, but in the end it more or less boils down to different cultures having ideas of what is right and wrong and that no point of view is wholly correct because no point of view encompasses all truths. This is how I view life. I believe that every group has ideas on what is right and wrong, and that, generally speaking, most groups do what they believe is right. However, to others, that might seem like the wrong thing.
I did not always think this way. In fact, I used to very much be one of the "it's my way or the high way" sorts of people. I still am, in some ways. I'm very opinionated, and if I'm making something I'm going to make it the way I think is most right. But it's shaped the way I approach other people and interact with them, and I feel that interacting with others with the thought in mind that they are doing what they think is best (even if I don't agree with their concept of what's best) has been a help to me rather than a hindrance. In my line of study (medical care), it's almost a mandatory way of thinking (but that's a topic for another day), though I developed my own opinion on this before it was encouraged by school.
There are a number of people who are outraged by the idea of moral relativism, and I had an encounter with some of them yesterday. I admit that I struggle still to see exactly where there issue was in the context of the problem we were discussing, so I cannot share with you what the exact nature of their issue was, but in general they seemed upset that I did not support one warring party in a fictional war and tossed the term moral relativism at me in a manner which I presume they thought would be insulting. I was not insulted, but this was the first time I had encountered such a strong reaction to such a scenario and it got me thinking.
The idea of moral relativism doesn't claim that everything a culture does is perceived as correct within that culture. Women not having the right to vote is/was an example of this: though it is/was the norm within cultures, there were/are a number of people who did/do not perceive this as right or fair. Change was brought about as a result. It also appears to be the case that, as a society develops, it gears itself more and more towards the fair treatment of the people within that culture. This is not the case everywhere and as a species we do indeed have a long way left to go, but another thing that I feel people misunderstand is that change is not instantaneous and is never easy. It is an ongoing and infinite process, and as such takes time.
Moral relativism also does not claim that the indigenous thought or reasoning behind a certain policy within a culture was correct to begin with, because the very point of the idea is that nothing is.
Moral relativism doesn't forbid that groups or individuals have their own ideas on what is right and wrong. It does not require that everyone thinks the same way, only the recognition and acceptance that what is right for you might not be right for someone else, and vice versa.
It does not advocate interfering with a group that you do not agree with, certainly not by aggressive means, but it also does not say that you shouldn't defend yourself from aggressors. It doesn't say that you have to put yourself second for "the greater good" or in the name of tolerance.
It's a fascinating idea because at its very core I interpret it as meaning you do you and do it freely, but beware the consequences of your actions. It's not promoting lawlessness at all. It's a reminder of the world as it is: all our actions do have consequences because not everyone agrees with us and thinks the exact same way we do. But it's also an idea for what the world could be: empathetic to one another and accepting of our differences.
Empathy is key in the positive development of society, and part of empathy is being able to put yourself in someone else's shoes, to understand why they experience things the way they do and understand their situation. I do feel that thinking that no one else has shoes worth putting on aside from you is incredibly ignorant. Without empathy we get groups of people who believe that they are wholly right and that everyone else is wrong, and I do, personally, find that alarming (not to mention obnoxious). A group that believes they are the only correct one feels justified to do anything at all without regard for how it will impact others, and we are aware of the results of that kind of thinking.
And that's my thought barf for today.