| Showers are nice when you
turn the water on warm, and simply collapse to the ground in a heap, to
let the liquid stream upon you, cascade over you, let it heat your cold
body until it becomes comfortable to live in once again. Sometimes,
my fingers get wrinkled, and I've often wondered why that is since early
childhood. Unfortunately, I've never been the one to bother perfoming
such a painstaking task as to actually look up that information.
Thus, it remains a great unknown to me, and probably will for quite a while.
I remember the shower when I came home during those rare university weekends when I didn't have any upcoming tests or outstanding projects to finish up or study for. The house seemed alien and very small. Everything was how i remembered it, yet it wasn't. It was smaller, or I was larger, or neither of the two. Something felt familiar and friendly about the house, yet still alien and full of discovery; I enjoyed that feeling. I was not tired of the house, the look of it, and it's general ambience. Now, the house seems familiar and I am tired of it. The bathroom where I shower in has the same yellow tiles that have been in there since May. There is no change in those tiles from yellow to the white plaster in the residence hall shower, as was the case during the last term at university. Things are quite etched into my mind. There is no alien feel, nothing even out of the ordinary. Everything has returned to it's normal size and perspective, and this tires me, because I always enjoyed that 'new' feeling I had when I came home for a brief weekend during college. It's far time that institution began in my life again. I move back next weekend. For the past two nights, I've been having dreams about seemingly all the girls I have had past crushes on. It's a distinctly depressing feeling, having these dreams, because you remember these characters in your life, and their reasons for not liking you. Yet, I've become quite attached to feeling miserable, and this sort of melancholia suits me wonderfully, adding an extra emotional tinge to music, weather, and experiences during the day. The first day, I was walking in what seemed high school again, or possibly a giant store. It never really seemed clear which one it was. There was no one else in the building besides myself. Yet, every so often, I'd bump into a girl I had a past crush on. No words were exchanged, just parting glances as we both continued on our way down the hall which seemed to stretch in both directions for eternity. I think I met four of my ex-crushes that evening. Last night, I dreamed I was walking again, but this time in a giant mall. In the shops I bothered to stop in, the ex-crushes were working at the counters. One was grinding coffeebeans. Another was cashiering. And so on. I woke up feeling refreshed, and knew at least my emotional stance would be agreeable this morning. However, I am finding these dreams strange, especially since they are the first dreams I've had since I can remember. I normally document my dreams, and I don't even recall when the last one was. None of the girls I have ever had crushes on have ever returned my feelings in any way other than, well, crushed. I think maybe that has something to do with my recurring dreams. I don't believe in straight interpretation, nor do I care enough about them to hire a psychiatrist or psychologist. And I definately do not want to get rid of them for the time being. They're nice; in a nostalgic, depressing sort of way. |