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"Time has been transformed, and we have changed; it has advanced and set us in motion; it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration." |
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No Rest For The Weeping
Wednesday, June 16, 2010 So I dreamt of her again, the one of whom I hate to dream. The one of whom I love to hate and the one of whom I hate to love. An encounter closer to reality this time... I was finding her blogs and reading them, I was finding her art and critiquing it. Then I came across a post of hers decorated with some images of her face. It read something along the lines of "Went on holiday today, it was great- we stopped off in Finland and the snow was amazing, I loved it. This is my first time travelling to Europe, and so far the stops have been fantastic... I'm also getting my dress back soon, Yay I'm getting Elizabeth (sp) back." It then had some photos of her and quite frankly she looked far worse than she actually does, and this gave me some comfort. I don't want that which I cannot have to be beautiful, I want it to be tattered and torn, a reject which no one else would accept- this may drive her back to me. And to be honest I woke up with disappointment, only to find that she isn't as grotesque as my dream had told me. I just also realized that there are links between that dream and Kristiina. Both the name of the dress and the location where she was heading (Europe) and the fact that she stopped by in Kristiina's home country. Though I doubt this has any relevance. I dream of the nightmare like clockwork, at least once a week. And I can assure you it's by no choice of my own- it's been 2 years and the dreams haven't stopped, I've tried replacing them with new ones but the new ones never last. The primary problem with this is that I go to sleep fairly happy at times, will dream of her and wake up completely depressed, with my mind running like a nostalgic slideshow. Like an accident, I don't want to think about it, but I can't help it. What's the point in trying to heal a wound when every time it scabs over you unintentionally scratch it open, only to have to go through the whole process again. I think love and hate are far more closely related that people sometimes think, love and hate are not opposites. They are merely branches on a tree called passion. Labels: dreams, gabi, hate, love, passion |
Follow Aetas Velox Click here to follow us on blogspot Affiliates/Links Indiscreetkids Blog Bryn's Deviantart Kristiina's Deviantart Backstabber Extracts previous posts Clean of Dreams The Past and Present Nothing Special The Day Prior to Paris A Piece in the Puzzle |
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