Every night I go to bed, I get scared of ghosts. When in bed, I always face the outside to be on guard if anyone was standing in front of me. The last time I felt this way was in England after an eight-hour conversation with Chris. We talked about the dead, and I think that struck me. That night I slept with the desk lamp on, and I had Nine Inch Nails on repeat. I was alone in the house too.
Whenever I had my eyes closed, I would force them to open because I felt a ghost watching me. Maybe it would make itself visible to me, I thought. It led me to check every minute.
Last night I turned my television on and went to sleep. I had been asleep for half an hour when something woke me up. I had my eyes wide open and saw a glittering red net all over me as if I was caught in a spider’s web. I immediately turned on the lights, and everything was gone. Someone had turned my television off as well. After turning off the lights, I went back to bed. That was when I felt my bed shaking heavily as if something was underneath it. I jumped out of it again and switched the lights back on. Nothing.
It wasn’t shaking; my body was. My whole body was vibrating, muscles tensed up.
I never used to be scared of the dark until now.
All my current dreams are broken fragments, which are parts of something bigger.
I’ve also been dreaming about animals. I was walking in a large dirty puddle full of mini crocodiles and turtles. It was wrong to believe that the turtles weren’t dangerous. They were. They were trying to attack me. It took me a while to find the street, but I couldn’t handle the adrenaline anymore, so I forced myself to wake up. I also had a weird dream about my dog, Mikey. He was able to speak. But instead of saying nice things, we argued so badly until I started crying. When I woke up, I had to go cuddle him.
Yesterday was a horrible day. The summer heat creates an irritating vibe in the house, often starting with my mother freaking out over nothing. Since it’s so easy to aggravate me too, I just joined in and started shouting. However, there was a catalyst. My mother asked me whether to throw out the Bonsai plant (which I gave to her and dad for their 25th anniversary). The plant had gone all dry and seemed to be dying. Something struck me when she said that, and I started yelling that she should do what the fuck she wanted with it. The plant was still in the kitchen today. I wish she hadn’t asked me what I wanted. It seems that I get wonderful presents for everyone else, except for my parents.
However, I’m not moaning about the summer. I’m just describing what a hot summer can induce at my home.