Tag Archive: dreams


My Masochistic Mind


A film is – or should be – more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what’s behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later.
Stanley Kubrick

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I have read, in several places, that one way to learn how to plot well, is to dissect the movies you watch. Like my choice in reading materials, often my movie experiences are emotional roller coasters.  What can I say, I’m a masochist at heart. Last night I went on a netflix rampage. I should add here, dear readers, that I usually try to avoid that website at all costs. As much of a time drain that youtube is, at the end of the day, Youtube videos are generally only around four minutes long. Netflix holds movies and entire series at the click of a mouse with no interruptions beside the occasional slow browser. I have an addictive personality guys. Entire weeks can be lost to Netflix. I certainly do not need that right now. 

 

None the less, I willing stepped into the quicksand. I began with Ted Talks. I don’t know if I have mentioned my recent obsession with these, but let me tell you, when I get started on these, it never ends quickly, or without some sort of guilt for not devoting all my time to saving the world or something. Of course I want to save the world. I just don’t know how to do it. Anyway, after I had crawled my way through those like a whipped puppy, I found myself staring of the cliff of the long, dangerous fall, that is a tear-jerk-er Hallmark movie. This one, The Shunning. took place in an Amish community. We followed a girl, Katie, who was about to be wed to the local Bishop. When we first meet Katie, we see her sneaking off to find a hidden guitar, an object that would not please her people. Later, she learns she is adopted, and decides she can’t go through with the wedding. 

 

I became so attached to Katie that I was crying for the last solid thirty minutes of the movie. She was real to me. The movie makers had perfectly kept up that essential suspension of belief. I want my characters to be like that; to be so real, not only to me, but to anyone who may read my work. For the most part, my characters are real to me. They have unique voices, appearances, back stories, thoughts… everything that real people have. I just wonder if that is displayed to those around me.

 

Anyway, I began this cry fest following my walk home in a whirlwind of cotton infested air from my job. We were in the actual pool today, and I spent my two hours with my head stuck in various confined spaces along with mold and multiple, various cleaning supplies. Needless to say, by the end of the night, my head was not feeling so well. Twenty minutes and six ibuprofen later (I generally take Excedrin for I’m all but immune to the healing affects of most headache medicine; thus the upped dosage) I was on my way to dreamland.

 

I had a very interesting dream last night, and it was similar in style to ones I’ve had multiple times before. I was in a building very similar to the church I was born into… I was looking for something, but also I got the feeling that I was running from something else and trying to escape. My main obstacle in doing this however was the slew of stairs that never led the way I thought they were going to and were utterly confusing. At one point I began following a wiener dog up the stark white, wooden stairs, but he led me farther astray than I was when I was alone. I woke up right as I reached the top of the stairs and came to a balcony which overlooked a thirty story building. I felt trapped and realized that the only way down was through the stairs or to jump. My eyes opened to reality before I made this decision. I have no idea what that was about. I’d blame it on the meds and fumes if not for the similarities to other dreams I’ve had.

 

I rolled over and grabbed my phone only to find five new text messages from my Spanish partner asking which vocab words I had on my section of our script. That was a great thought to wake up to. I have a strong, passionate hate for that class, and I didn’t want to begin my Sunday that way. Oh well, it needed to be done.  

 

Now that I’m typing this I’m listening to a selection of John Mayer songs on Youtube while smelling the baked potatoes in the oven for lunch. I don’t want to even think about all the homework I have to do today, but I don’t have a choice. Again, I’m thanking the good Lord that I don’t have school tomorrow.

Through my Eyes

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Well that’s all for now guys. So until next time, Keep on Dreaming &*)

~ Rose

Hi Again


“Insanity is my only means of relaxation”
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Alright, so I haven’t posted in…… like forever. Honestly, I haven’t had a lot of free time lately. I’m back now so I will start back to the week of the play.
Wow, what a week. Hectic, crazy, non-stop and yes, I feel insanity setting in. It’s pretty sad when you can honestly say that Monday was the best day of the week; especially when you hate Mondays. What’s even sadder is saying that going to your classes was the most relaxing part of your week. *Yawn* So Monday I had to stay after to help paint the scene flats, Tuesday and Wednesday were spent from 6-9 at rehearsals, then after that I had to stay up ‘till three AM on both nights to get Homework done. And then got up at 5 to get ready for school. On the night of the play I fell asleep on my Homework, so I had to finish up the next morning, and someone spilt apple cider all over it, smearing the ink. So I had to redo everything in five minutes.
The play on Thursday that we performed for our parents went fairly well. The last scene had a pie fight, a sword fight, and my own demise. We had never practiced the scene with the actual whipped cream pies before so when we did, the people through them a little too forcefully and it went across the entire stage. The cream was everywhere, and after we had taken our bows, we set off on a weird adrenalin hype slipping around on stage and being overly noisy.
That Friday we had to perform the play for second period classes, stopping at intermission and starting back up during sixth. I.E we had to keep our stupid makeup on all day long. It was terribly done by our director, and was rather embarrassing. But that was quickly forgotten when we started the second half of the play.
We had a narrator as a character, and he comes out to introduce us but accidentally starts off for a different scene. When he realized this, he pauses, says, ‘Crap, that was the wrong line…… Mrs. B! Mrs. B! What do I do Mrs. B!” running off stage while we all crack up, while trying not to let him see. (Mrs. B was the helper who was following along on the script to feed us our lines if we had forgotten them. The poor guy. He soon recovered and the rest of the play went on seamlessly.
The next week was the beginning of my new semester. I now have speech (Which in and of itself scares the crap out of me), art, and a class that produces our school literary magazine. I have no classes with one of my best friend, and only have lunch with her once a week, which is utterly upsetting. The good news though is that my friends are finally starting to come out of their depressed slump.
This week I have two big research projects to do, plus my grade is to have an assembly on which no one knows what it’s over, though we all assume that we’re going to get yelled at. Haha, but in random news, I have found an addicting art form: Drabbles! These are 100 word short stories that are just bundles of fun!
Anyway, that’s all that I can think of at this moment, so until next time, Keep on Dreamin’ and thanks for readin’ &*)