nepenthean's Diaryland Dream Diary



the scenery in this dream was very dull, cheap, and depressing. the rooms of the place were old, well worn, and probably would have smelled of decay or stagnation had i stopped to take a whiff. mostly what i felt was an almost irrepressible urge to get away. the people i interacted with were old, not quite raggedy but totally beaten down by life -- basically bitter and determined to keep me there with them.

i would rather have slit my wrists, frankly. i slipped out a side door, or maybe the front door, and ran for my life. i heard the crochety old woman's voice in my ear as she told her thick waisted and thick skulled son to bring me back, but i never *looked back* -- i just looked at the downtrodden people i passed and wondered whether they'd ever run like me. had they ever had that impulse? why did they give in and become complacent? what makes a person lose hope, and what gives it back to them?

bottom line: what will you tolerate?

12:52 p.m. - 2005-02-22


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