what dreams may come
October 13, 2003 � 4:33 p.m.

First Entry Today

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Okay, for me to say that I have had a strange weekend would be an understatement.

It started off with the bizzaro strip club excursion and then just barreled out of control from there. Well...not out of control...out of the ordinary.

After the strip club stint and coming home to a cell phone blown up by Swiz, I fell into troubled dreams on the couch. I dreamt that God no longer existed and had been destroyed by Lucifer when the war in Heaven occurred. Lucifer, fancying God's idea of the mortals and wondering what would be the outcome created them anyway and then implanted the idea of "touch and die" into their heads with the forbidden tree and then let it fly from there. In other words, no good and evil, God vs. Devil, no Bible...nothing. Everything since we were created was a fabrication that WE made up in our minds and passed down from generation to generation, blaming our faults on the devil and attributing our strengths to God. Somehow, however, I found out that ALL of that was a lie. There was never a God or a war in Heaven or anything like that. There was just Lucifer, a schizophrenic entity created from the nothingness in the universe by the more powerful Gods to reign over this puny, forsaken universe that no one wanted to monitor. Because I knew this, now they were coming after me in my dreams or taking the shapes of the ones that I love to fool me into coming to them (they can not approach me...I have to go freely to them because my power is too great). The last body they jumped into was Cowboy's, and he had "The World Is Mine" tattooed on the back of his head and I looked up at him and his eyes glowed red and he started to follow Jenny upstairs with a fire blazing dagger in his hand and I screamed and chased after him...

Then I woke up. Flashes of this dream have haunted me whenever my mind wanders. It's creeping me the fuck out because everything seemed so real and I just have that kooky apprehensive feeling creeping across the back of my neck all of the time...

{{{{ShIvErS}}}}

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We went to the Coastline on Saturday and once again, I got hit on by women. Jenny got hit on by men...well one man that I know of, but she was out shaking her bootey most of the night so I didn't see much of her. They told me when I came in there were these three guys checking me out, but I only saw a guy that looked old enough to be my dad so I turned and left it alone. I didn't see the two younger guys with him...the two CUTE younger guys with him...*sigh*

So I was sitting in the corner, getting more and more depressed because everyone was out on the floor and I was sitting there alone, all dressed up and feeling like a fucking fool because Swiz hadn't shown up. I kept looking at my phone and watch, pissed because I didn't have the money to get drunk enough to not be worried about him or anything else, and hurting because I was only getting approached by girls and geeks. Then this guy with huge ears comes up to me and starts talking to me. He said he thought I was sexy, and that I was the most beautiful black woman he had ever seen. He was quite complimentary and he had me blushing and just for a little while, I believed him when he said these things to me. I was so flabbergasted that my dumb ass gave him my REAL cell phone number by mistake, which he called the next day to tell me he couldn't stop thinking about me, and he dreamed about me, and he could still smell my perfume and see my face when he closed his eyes, and he really wanted to take me out to a movie or to dinner because I was "so fucking sexy and honestly so beautiful" that he couldn't believe that I was real and available and all he wants to do is make me his own...

Did I mention he was a 23-year-old geeky white boy with a stutter and staring problem?

Part of me feels sorry for him, part of me is flattered by his attention, and part of me is scared shitless because he called me AGAIN, today, at like 8:00 AM to tell me how much he wanted me.

Yeah...uh huh...that's what I need...

ANOTHER psycho.

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Jenny dropped me off and I was so, so, so, so, so bummed that Swiz didn't make it out that she was a loss for words and tried to make me see the bright side of things. The bright side? That a lot of people this weekend have approached me and used the word "beautiful" and obviously there are a lot of folks that think I'm attractive, but I don't see it.

Right then, though, I felt like the ugliest thing to walk the earth.

I went upstairs and as soon as I looked around my apartment, I wanted to break down and cry.

There should be someone there for me to come home to.

There should be laughter, and hopes, and memories bouncing off the walls instead of loneliness.

There should be someone for me to argue with, make up with, dream with, hold, kiss, and make love with.

But I don't have that. Instead I live my life from day to day, waiting for someone else's boyfriend to find the time to come see me...to come fuck me and leave in the early hours of the morn as to not be seen or found out.

That is my life. As glamorous as it might sound sometimes, that's the jist of it. My life, as always, revolves around someone else's life.

I laid down but fought the tears and sadness away, making my spine a rod as I swore to myself that all of this shit was coming to end and soon before falling asleep.

At 7:00 my phone rang. It was Swiz asking to come over. I said yes, but fell back to sleep.

I thought it was a dream.

I woke up and he was slinking his arms around me and turning me to face him. I was so angry and happy to see him that my eyes filled with frustrated tears as I asked him where he had been last night. He told me that he had gone out drinking with his boys and he passed out over there. When he woke up his boy told him he had kept stuttering "The...uh....The...uh...The...uh" in his drunkenness and he realized he was saying my name and came right over from there.

He said that while cradling me in his arms with my head resting over his heart and I wasn't mad at him anymore.

Now I'm just mad at me for loving him the way that I do.

When he was leaving I saw him looking, no staring, down at me while he was dressing. He didn't know I could see him the whole time because when I moved, he turned away. But when I settled back, he looked over again and was smiling down at me sadly...not with regret, but grudging admiration and tenderness...like he didn't really want to go but had to anyway, and when he was gone, it was then that I cried because my bed and life just seemed so completely empty without him there.

Everything we do moves from can't do to can't don't.

He called me earlier to ask about something on my site (work) and I melted to hear his voice and I just wanted him to stay on the line with me as long as possible...but he got off and said he was going to be "good" this week and get some stuff done. Meaning I shouldn't expect to hear from him for awhile again...

*sigh*

...and my heart has constricted in my chest and refuses to expand until I hear from him again.

Heart leads head.

Ain't that a bitch?