hate

It would just so happen that the night I get to sleep in is the same night I get continually woken by nightmares.

Most of them were about my brother.  I guess given the theme so far we'll call him Gatsby.

It's probably just my subconscious telling me to go visit him.  I haven't in a long time.

I guess I'm a bad brother.  It just stirs up things I don't really want to remember, you know?

I should probably talk about my nightmares.

I was visiting him in this waiting room type thing.  Normally we walk the grounds with an orderly following us, but this is a dream, so it felt like, you know, this is what we always do.  Why wouldn't we just sit around in a room?

Anyway, I'm talking to him and as I'm talking, because this was kind of third person, I see some of my skin start to flake off.  But we keep talking.  I don't remember about what.

More and more of my skin flakes off and we keep talking and suddenly I notice all my skin is gone and it's like in a cartoon, where someone doesn't fall until they look down, and then I start bleeding everywhere, and I'm writhing in pain and he keeps talking and talking, and right before I wake up, he looks down at me and says, "what big teeth you have".

Naturally, as this is me, the first thing I did was take a shower and make double sure my skin isn't flaking off.  I had to actually look up the symptoms of Smallpox and Ebola just to calm myself down.

I guess I should take some melatonin or something and go to bed.  I don't want to, though.  Maybe I'll get some studying done.  Get my mind off that dream.