Landing on my Feet

So I had a weird dream last night. I was back in Idaho, driving out in the country with my parents and another guy. We were driving high above this valley, when suddenly, the car fell off the road, and was falling down into the valley where we would surely all die. But as we were falling, I flew out of the car, and I landed on my feet in the valley. My dad did the same thing. However, my mom and the other guy were killed. I was so excited about having survived, being not injured, and landing on my feet that I kept saying "praise God! You do exist!" over and over again and I kept going on about God. Then my dad says, "hey, where's your mom?" And I'm like "dude, she didn't survive. She's dead." Then I woke up.

Overall this was a good dream.

Dreaming of STD's

I had a dream last night about the guy I had delusions about. This dream lacked the intense feeling of longing. An indication of progress. The two of us lived relatively close together and saw each other sometimes but not all that often. I still kind of had feelings for him but they weren't that strong anymore. It was the feeling like when you are in a relationship with someone and then you break up and you have pretty much moved on, but there are still remnants of feelings.

So the two of us were talking. There was an understanding that I was with someone else. To make conversation and indicate that I had moved on, I asked him about this one girl I saw him hanging around a lot. They seemed to like each other so I asked if the two of them were going to get together, as an indication that I would like to see him with someone else. He told me that they had discussed it and he wasn't sure that it would work out. They each had an STD, but not the same STD. They didn't want to get together and acquire the other one's STD because then they would both have two STD's. So it probably wasn't going to work out. He asked about my STD's. I told him I didn't have any. He told me that I might have one and not know it.

I think the reason I had this dream was because last night at the restaurant I was sharing a spoon with my sister because the dessert only came with one spoon, and I asked her if she had oral herpes. At first she thought I meant that I had it but then I told her I was just making sure that she didn't have it.

Anyway, that's all for now.

Lucid Dreams and Novel Ideas

So I was awake for a period of time last night. I would blame withdrawal from the benzos again but I remember it was like this before I started going off Klonopin. So, after being awake for awhile, I drank some chamomile tea, ate a banana, and moved my pillows to the opposite end of the bed and lied the opposite direction. Eventually, I fell back asleep.

I actually think one of the careers I would find most rewarding would be to be a novelist. Like, a popular novelist like J. K. Rowling or Stephen King who write books that people are obsessed with. To be able to write a story that people found so compelling would be awesome. Except, as I've said before, I can't come up with fiction worth shit while I'm awake. I come up with what I think are compelling story lines in my dreams but never remember them once awake. Except for last night. I don't know if this concept is any good or not, but I was thinking it was in my dream and I remembered a lot of it once I woke up.

So I will just talk about the whole dream. It was lucid. It started out where I was at my parent's house and I wanted to leave. My parents would follow me once I left the house but I could escape them. Running away from my parents in my dreams is an exceptionally common theme for me. Actually being able to escape is not.

I was living with this guy who was maybe in his early forties. He used me for sex but gave me a place to stay and I was okay with this. We were supposed to be having sex, but it wasn't really one of those hormonal type dreams so the sex wasn't real exciting, but the guy was naked. I saw his torso from the front and he was a little bit overweight but not by that much. Then he turned around. Attached to his back was this gigantic fetus. I found this so disturbing that I left this guy right away, despite the fact that I wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. It is common for me to walk around in public in dreams without a lot of clothing.

So my mom was after me again, and I had to escape her. I could do this by shooting straight up in the sky really high, up past layers of clouds, and then landing down somewhere on the ground completely different. I think I might have also been shooting at her with something or hitting her with a stick. I think I stayed with another guy for awhile and then had to leave.

So I shot straight up in the air again, and I was looking down at the city, deciding where to land. I decided to land in the seedy red light district part of town. I could tell it was the red light district because of all the red light radiating out from it. When I made this decision, I knew that it was probably a poor decision because I was likely in for more than I had bargained for. Cities in my dreams, real big dirty cities with crime and stuff, when they appear in my dreams, there is a strong feeling of evil associated with them, like this is where evil and the dark side of humanity dwells. And I had a sense that coming from a wealthy suburban family who loved me, I was sheltered from this side of humanity and perhaps not prepared to deal with it. But I made the decision to land there and did anyway.

The next thing you know I was woken up by policemen. I had apparently been unconscious. I had been knocked unconscious by a gang of men who had sexually assaulted me. But they had done more than just that. They had implanted a chip in me which recorded my sexual memories/sexual experiences and broadcasted them to the gang of guys somehow. Because I was some sort of prostitute or something, and I they knew I was going to have a lot of fucked up sexual experiences, and it brought them some sort of sick pleasure to see them, to be able to experience them themselves in vivid detail. Or maybe it was for them to make money somehow.

There was some sort of government operation going on regarding this and related incidents. I was placed with a group of people who had had similar experiences happen to them. But the government had to be careful what they told me because they didn't know what information the chip would broadcast to the gang of men. So I was in this elevator type thing with a bunch of other people and if I remember correctly they were mostly men, strangely enough. I don't watch a lot of comic book type movies but there was a sense of it being similar to this one movie which I don't remember what it was called where there were a group of superhuman beings with special powers. Anyway, I was informed that because of my incident, I had been given the name Thorazine. In real life, Thorazine is the name of an antipsychotic. However, it is not in the same class of drugs as the other antipsychotics I have mentioned on my blog. Those are Atypical Antipsychotics, so I guess Thorazine would be considered a typical antipsychotic. I'm not sure that's what they are called, but they are an older class of drugs. Thorazine is famous for making people do what's known as the Thorazine shuffle, where they walk like they are drugged because apparently Thorazine drugs you pretty bad. I have never taken Thorazine myself, unless that is what they gave me the night I drank too much seven years ago and was taken to the ER. They injected me with something to calm me down and later my mom told me it was some sort of antipsychotic. My friend who has taken Thorazine said that unlike the atypical antipsychotics Thorazine makes you feel good, and after I was injected with this drug at the ER I felt pretty good and nice and relaxed. Anyway, the people gave me a reason why I was named Thorazine but I don't know that it made any sense. There was a guy there name something like Lepitor. It was a name similar to Lipitor but it wasn't Lipitor. We had some sort of romantic thing going on. As this dream was progressing I was trying to commit to memory everything that was going on and I knew I wouldn't be able to. There was something going on with the elevator like it was falling or something, and I heard the sound of water really loud and I asked what that was but then I woke up because I was trying so hard to collect all this data without waking up that I woke myself up too much. That's the trouble with lucid dreams, I get so excited I wake myself up sometimes.

So anyway, that was pretty much it. It was supposed to be part of a novel in the genre of erotic sci fi or something. It was almost like the dream was purposely trying to give me an idea for writing a novel because right after the part where the police told me about the chip it was kind of like, "Remember this! This is an idea for a novel!" But I'm not really sure about this.

Stupid Western Culture

Sometimes if I think too much about the culture we live in, the inconsistencies drive me crazy.

So I live in conservative Christian north Idaho. I own a bible. I read my bible, usually nightly. I attend a two and a half hour bible study on Tuesday nights, and church most Sundays. According to facebook I'm a born-again deist. I change my beliefs from time to time, and whenever I change them I'm a "born again" something or other.

I don't know if that's even relevant, but the point is I listen. I see value in acquiring information and then using my power of reason to reason my way through it, to decide what I believe and what I don't believe.

Trouble is, I'm not allowed to come to my own conclusions about things, unless they are consistent with other peoples' conclusions. If they don't match up, I am labeled unfit to make my own decisions.

It's because of the culture we live in, stupid materialistic western culture, that thinks that everything is physical and chemical.

Anyway, what got me started on this was that the night before last I had a bad dream about malls. It may have been about malls because I died in a mall in a previous life. This is a subject I won't get into. Anyway, it felt as if my mind were under attack. I was wondering about this, and looked up "psychic attacks" on the internet. I came across some interesting pages. I can relate to the symptoms of being influenced by a spirit. I can relate to the feeling of being "drained." It's not a feeling of being hungry, tired, or even depressed, but just like the life is sucked out of you. It's not like you're coming off a drug either, I know what that feels like. When I was feeling "drained," I felt this other person inside of me and I was worried that they were going to take me over completely. I was scared.

It's culturally accepted to believe in the bible. In the bible, Jesus drives demons out of people. But today, that kind of stuff doesn't happen. Or maybe I'm getting two different cultures mixed up. There's Christian culture and then there's atheistic culture.

My mom talks to and trusts psychics. The same psychic she trusts told me that my "mental illness" wasn't just a mental illness, it was a psychic thing, but that my brain was adding to it too. She also said that it's not just in my head that a spirit is messing with me, there is (or was) one pestering me. But my mom likes to talk to psychics to contact the dead relatives. I read on the website yesterday that dead people aren't really a good source of information because they don't necessarily have any more information than they did while they were alive.

At any rate, I don't even know why I'm posting this, as it may make certain people think that I am unfit to make my own decisions.

Conversation With Job

I took a vacation from my life last night in the form of a dream. It started out where I was in a strange house that was supposed to be my house, on my computer working on stopping global warming. I fell asleep at my computer. Then I was in a dream within a dream. I was petting a cat, and I looked at it and recognized her as my family's old cat Amanda who died several years ago. I realized that I must be dreaming. Then a guy came and spoke to me, and told me that his name was Job. I asked him if he was the same Job from the bible. He had to think about this for several minutes. "Oh yeah, I was in the bible," he said. He told me that I was different from other people in that I required spiritual energy in order to survive (I'm not quite sure what this meant, but that's what he said). I think he said other stuff that I don't remember. I asked him if my meds hindered me. He said he didn't remember, he had to check on that and get back to me. Then I woke up, but I was still asleep because it was a dream within a dream. I felt very touched that Job from the bible felt the need to speak with me. I was going to write something about in on Facebook, but then it turned out I was still in a dream and I woke up again, yet again still in a dream. I didn't end up saying anything about in on Facebook, I wondered who I should tell about it. I didn't tell anyone, but my parents knew about it. They were upset that I was still having delusions about the bible, and they were after me. I left the house, and then I was outside my real house at home.

My dad came out of the house first, and I was standing on the sidewalk. He was going to chase after me, but instead of running I just held up my hand, pointing all my fingers at him and focusing all my energy on keeping him in one place. It worked, he stood there motionless. Then my mom came out of the house, she didn't see me but she walked on to the grass and was standing closer to me. I held my other hand up to keep her still. But it was impossible to keep them both still because I didn't have enough energy. I then woke up for real.

When I woke up, I felt like I had been somewhere far away. I don't think I really talked to Job but the dream seemed significant. I was starting to feel normal, and then I have this dream about talking to people from the bible reminding me that I'm not normal.

And then I come to the NIC library and get on Facebook and read messages sent by my sister. My parents are upset that I'm in a relationship because they think I'm not ready. I'll probably go to the grave not being ready to be in a relationship. It's doubtful that my parents will ever think I'm ready to be in a relationship again. This is an interesting feeling, because it does piss me off. A lot. At the same time, I remember myself holding up my hands in the dream and paralyzing them with my mind, and the sense of power I had over them.

Adventures in Dreamland

My sleep was strange last night.

In my first dream, I was deciphering something someone wrote about me on a message board (this so reminds me of high school, those days seem so far away now). They mentioned me, referring to me by my last name. It was a person I know in real life, but I won't say who. I was trying to figure out why they mentioned me, when without me really noticing, my last name changed into the word "right," like that was suddenly my name. Right, as in the opposite of wrong. Then I woke up, and thought about the dream, and fell back asleep.

This part was bad. I was naked in my room at home, and there was something in front of the door but the door was still open. I was trying to close the door. I turned on my computer but when I did it automatically loaded Starcraft, and I didn't want to play Starcraft. Actually, what I wanted to do was decipher the comment the person left on the message board some more. But this was supposed to be back in the day before everything was wireless, and when I looked at the wires hooked into the wall I noticed that the internet wasn't even plugged in, and the cords were all messed up and the wrong things were plugged into the wrong places. Other stuff was happening, that's all I remember though, and it formed a vicious cycle until I decided I wanted to exit this dream, so I held my breath. I woke up as I inhaled.

I fell back asleep again, but this time I didn't know it was a dream. There was a psychic fair going on. I was thinking about how the spirits were causing this madness and I wanted to ask the psychics about my issues. Talking to the psychics was free. I walked up to a psychic, it was a man. I didn't tell him what my issues were, I just asked about my problems, trying to be very vague. He told me they were caused by spirits. In the dream I was impressed that he knew this. The spirits were using me, creating issues in my life and feeding off the emotional energy they created in me. I asked how to stop this madness. He said I needed to accept Jesus Christ as my savior. Actually, at this point I think there were a bunch of psychics surrounding me all telling me this. I asked if there was any other way, this is where my memory fails me but I think the answer was no.

Anyway, I'm not sure about this dream. I'm not sure what the problems in the one part of my dream were supposed to represent in my waking life.

Bending the Mind

So I have to go to the Innercept classroom to study on Tuesdays. There is always a daily quote on the board. One Tuesday not too long ago it was something along the lines of: "once your mind has been stretched, it never regains it's original form." I was with one of my mentors, and I pointed to it and proclaimed that this was a very true statement.

Yes, it is a very true statement. My mom one time told me she didn't know why I was still so obsessed with my experiences being delusional. She compared it to the time my grandpa once saw wild turkeys on the side of the road. One time, when my mom's father was still alive, we were driving in the country and there were wild turkeys on the side of the road. Big deal. At least, my sister and I didn't understand why it was such a big deal, and no one explained to me why it was a big deal. But my grandpa kept bringing it up later, like it was such a big event. My sister and I mentioned something about it to my mom, how we kept having to hear about the stupid wild turkeys and who cares about wild turkeys. So anyway, my mom was saying that me being obsessed with my experiences was like my grandpa going on about the wild turkeys.

This is not how it is with me. Sure I was delusional, and my delusions were false (which is implied by the first statement because I said they were delusions). You can come back down from being delusional, you can go undelusional, but there's no returning to the original shape that your brain was in before it thought that you were God and you created the universe and all these big events happened because of you and all this freaking amazing stuff. And when I was delusional, an idea was implanted in my mind that hasn't gone away. I don't remember if I've mentioned this before, sometimes I think I repeat myself and talk in circles. But anyway, the idea was that God foresees a natural disaster and he's in a pickle because any prophet is going to be seen as delusional. I'm not saying I'm a prophet or anything, I'm just saying that this is an idea that never goes away. And at night, I continue to be haunted by those dreams. This is where I leave some of you in suspense because I didn't say what dreams, but certain people will know what I'm talking about.

Secretly (not anymore) I wonder what's going to happen. Because I was never convinced it was just a mental illness, and the spirits are urging me to work on getting my book published. Do other authors experience this? But, there are certain things you've got to do. Like take the meds. Take prns when you feel funny and learn from the past. I entertain strange ideas sometimes but I always return to believing just mostly (MOSTLY!) what I know for a fact to be true. Mostly...

Semi-Lucid Dreams and Acting

I woke up around 3 am last night feeling wide awake, so I did what I usually do in this situation, which was switch to the other bed in my room. It worked, I fell back asleep. The downside of this is tactic is that in the morning I have twice as many beds to make.

I had this dream, which was lucid or semi-lucid (I'm not sure if dreams can be considered semi-lucid). At the beginning I was shown a picture of this guy named Charlie, who was going to be my future lover. He had long, dark, very curly hair that was big and went everywhere. Not the kind of guy I'd usually be into, but I didn't think he was that unattractive. Then I was on a mission to find him. Along the way, I met this guy who asked me what kind of drug I don't smoke. I said I didn't smoke crack. So he handed me a cocaine cigarette, I don't think people smoke cocaine in rolled-up cigarette form in real life but they did in my dream. I smoked it and it made me feel interesting, though probably not how it would in real life. In real life I've done cocaine a few times but never when I wasn't under the influence of alcohol. I like it how when you do drugs in dreams they make you feel different. For the rest of the dream I kept doing things and having to run away, except something about it was different than my other running away dreams. I think other running dreams stem from the desire to run away and do destructive things. But in this dream, I was the one who was right. Which might sound wrong considering I was smoking a cocaine cigarette, but in this dream that wasn't considered a bad thing, it was a socially accepted drug like nicotine or even caffeine.

Charlie was the name of a character in the play I saw last weekend. The actor who played him did a ridiculously good job I thought and he is also in my acting class. He did a monologue in front of the class on Monday, and he did a ridiculously good job then too.

Which makes me think of my own acting. I don't know how good I am or if I'm even good at all, I really wonder about this. But I feel the need not to fail at acting. I don't mean not fail the class, I'm sure even someone who completely sucked at acting could get a passing grade in the class if they made an effort. I'm not going to make a career out of acting, but I'd like it to be something I'm reasonably good at. I have to do my own monologue next Monday.

I remember the reason I decided to do acting in the first place. Part of the reason was because it's something I'm interested in, but it was also because I thought I could play myself if my book were made into a movie, because I feel it will be turned into a movie. The advantage I have is that I know how I act and carry myself, and I experienced the events of the book myself. The disadvantage is that I'd have to act convincingly drunk and cry on command.

Dreams and Their Pesky Ways

I woke up yelling and groaning from a dream last night. I was staying at a hotel with my parents, but they were still awake. When I woke up in the morning I remembered how I had woke up yelling, I didn't remember what the dream was about at first but then I thought about it and I remembered. There were two people who were the same. I think one was a girl and one was a guy. I was the girl. The thing was, everyone was supposed to be different, so I had to pretend to be different than I actually was. We had a plan about how in the end we were going to reveal ourselves to be the same, but it was nearing the end and it wasn't working out like I had planned, either the other guy backed out or I forgot the plan or it just wasn't working, and I was going to be labeled as mentally incompentent.

This parallels my life weakly but not exactly. Sometimes I relive hard things I've been through in dreams. None of these things happened when I was in treatment. They're things that happened years ago, that I should be over but I'm not. Sometimes it's about my "mental illness," but the thing I'm thinking about was something that happened leading up to the onset.

It happened when I met a guy who liked me. After a few days, I realized that I liked him too. Then he started being rude to me, treating me disrespectfully, and he wouldn't let me hang out with him. And I never got over it. Even now, I'm not over it. I hardly new him.

I feel that my dreams mock me sometimes, by bringing to the surface feelings I would rather were left buried. I lived it once, and it's over. Why must I live it again? I curse these dreams and their pesky ways.

Actually, I love dreams. You just have to admit that some dreams are rather annoying.

Life: It's All About Surprises

So I'm sitting at the library, and I really feel like writing so I'm going to write but I'm trying to organize my thoughts enough so that I can write about something and not have it turn out incoherent and all over the place.

I find myself confused. There are things on my mind that I really wish I knew the answers to, and then there are things that I'd kind of like to know the answers but I don't really need to.

Sometimes, you "just know" things. But the thing is, sometimes you "just know" something, and what you just know isn't so. Then again, sometimes it is, and when it is it's like, "wow, no one told me that, I just suddenly realized it and knew it was true and wow, I was right!" So how do you tell the difference?

One thing I've learned is to trust your past experience. Ask yourself, what does this experience remind you of? What happened then? Trouble is, sometimes what you're currently experiencing doesn't match with anything from the past.

I've got about a million things on my mind right now, but I'll focus in on one of them. The things that people tell you in your dreams. I had a dream a couple nights ago where I was receiving information from the great beyond. Actually, what was happening is my psychic sister was whispering information to my mom and she was telling it to me. She told me something that made me extremely happy. And I started freaking out! Like seriously, I was freaking the fuck out, because I knew I was receiving this information from a reliable source, and I had just heard exactly what I wanted to hear and I knew it was a dream so that means I was lucid but in most lucid dreams it can be extremely hard for me to stay asleep. I wake up very easily from lucid dreams. But I was going crazy in this dream and I still didn't wake up.

It's weird, because right now I'm staring at what I just wrote, and I've realized that the process of writing that last paragraph convinced me that the information I received was true.

I've said before that you should heed what people tell you in dreams. This is true. Except, they've told me conflicting things. See, I have trouble with my love life, or lack thereof. I have trouble finding people who are interested in me, and when I do, I'm not interested in them. I had a dream a month or so back where someone told me I'd never be in another relationship again. A couple nights ago in the dream I was just talking about, someone told me I'd be in a relationship again before I turned 26. That isn't what I got excited about, I'm not going to say what I got excited about. Later on in the dream, someone told me the thing I got excited about wasn't true. But that was later on in the dream, and the spirits may have left at that point if they had ever been present, as spirits can only stay for so long, because even in dreams mediumship requires you to raise your vibration and the spirits to lower theirs, and this is difficult and the connection doesn't last very long.

I was and still am fully convinced that the night the spirits told me in a dream to leave Innercept, I was talking to the spirits. I'm not fully convinced that the other night I was making contact with the spirits or my great infinite wise self or whatever. It might have meant something, but I'm not sure. Thus why I am confused. I'm also confused at why they told me something good and then took it back. But I feel it might be because they didn't want me to be too sure about this, because then it might not happen, and also because the future is supposed to be a mystery.

Life is all about surprises. Some people hate surprises. That's too bad for them, because life is about surprises. You've got to learn to live with it.

Psychics: My Professional Opinion

A few days ago I was looking at a Skeptical Inquirer magazine and I have to say that I disagree about a number of things. One thing I believe I know is that psychic abilities are real. I went through a phase that I'm not proud of where I would talk to psychics on the internet. I've talked to them in person too. So I consider myself experienced on the subject.

Yes, psychics sometimes know things that there is no way for them to know, even when taking into account that they might be talking to each other. They accurately predict things, but more often than not they predict things that do not end up happening. They can get things right when the chances of them guessing and getting it right are very, very small. They also like to decieve and scam.

I wish I had more time to write, but I have to go to class soon so I'll keep this short. Psychics aren't worth your time or money. Even if they somehow know things they shouldn't know, that doesn't mean that anything else they say is going to be right. They want to make the customer happy, at least at the time of the reading. In other words, they will tell you what you want to hear.

The worst time to talk to a psychic is when you think you might be delusional. No one wants to hear that they are delusional.

Predictions about the future are the most unreliable. Don't take any predictions about the future seriously.

There are some things that you aren't supposed to know until the time is right. Sometimes though, you need advice, and you need it from people who aren't living. At least I do. In this case, you wait for the spirits to talk to you.

But most people aren't mediums! That's not a problem. There's this thing we do every night called sleep. If someone not living really needs to tell you something, this is a good time. My advice: always take seriously the advice you receive in your dreams, if you do receive advice in your dreams.

You can waste money on psychics if you have a lot of cash to spare, but remember that if a psychic says something, it doesn't really mean anything at all.

Writer's Block

So I've sat down to write and I can't figure out what I should be writing about. There are always topics flooding through my head, but in order to write about one of them I have to feel a certain passion about it or else it just kind of flops and it doesn't come off as good as it could. Which is why I'm wondering now if I should even go off Adderall because that's what generates that spark for me which allows me to write passionately. No, I haven't gone off it yet and now I'm questioning whether or not I should. I was going to write about a dream I had last night but now the meat of the dream is covered by a large blank spot in my memory. I hate it when that happens, and that always happens. I wonder why I always have good dreams on Sunday nights.

Actually, as I write this I'm starting to remember. It was struggling to find a computer to get on Facebook. Why did I need to go on Facebook? I don't remember. There were a lot of houses, and someone suggested I go into a random person's house to use their computer. I think there was something about my book.

The ending part was about water parks. Water parks made me feel sick, but it was an emotional sickness and not a physical sickness. This has delusional significance to me but I'm not sure it was about my delusions. I wanted to get on this one elliptical that sprays water but it was too close to the ocean, or something like that. There was the color blue.

I think Freud would have a good time interpreting this dream.

Freud: An Amusing Weirdo

I'll keep this blog entry short as I don't have much time. It seems that I reject Freudian theories in my dreams without knowing that they're Freudian theories.

I had a dream a few months back where there was this guy putting people under hypnosis, and then he would ask them about the first time they were cut. "Was it traumatizing?" he would ask. And he thought that this was a pretty intense question, too intense for some people to answer, because being cut for the first time would be pretty traumatizing. He put me under hypnosis and I answered: "The first time you are cut is not traumatizing! It's normal, natural, and necessary! Start by asking a different question!" And that's when the hypnosis starts going somewhere. I realized after I woke up that the first time you are cut is when they cut your umbilical cord. I wrote about this dream in a Facebook note.

I realize now that I was rejecting Freud. It says in my sociology book that Freud believed growing up was a traumatizing process. I used to read about him and he believed that what everyone desires is to return to the womb. Guys can do this in a sense by having sex with their mother. Freud was kind of a screwed up nutcase.

I used to read about Freud because I was interested in dream interpretation. Freud believes that women envy the male sex organ. I read about this in my sociology book but I already knew this. This is actually a very amusing theory. I probably don't need to say that it is not true. I would be very upset if I had a penis. It's actually a very disturbing thought. And it shows how ridiculous Freud was.

I always liked Carl Jung. He was awesome and understood things better.

If you ask me, I think that what people desire more than getting off is to fulfill the ideal role for their gender. Children get an idea about gender roles at a very young age from television and movies. It becomes ingrained and subconcious. I have a desire for long hair because the princesses in Disney movies always had long hair. But my hair isn't as long as it used to be. I never made the decision to cut it, one time a hairdresser cut it more than I wanted it cut, I never got it even trimmed again but it never grew back, it just stayed the same length. The hair continued to grow though because I still got roots. True story.

Spirits, Sage, and Skepticism

I have a flaw and that's that I'm too open about talking about the supernatural. Of course, this can also attract people who are enlightened to the existence of the paranormal, or even people who aren't strong believers but are open-minded. But sometimes I forget that there are people who strongly disbelieve. But maybe it's okay to turn these people off because these people bother me, or at least at times they do.

There's nothing wrong with skepticism, because after all, "be skeptical yet open-minded" is my motto or it is as of this moment. They guy who wrote The Four Agreements (a book Innercept is obsessed with) stole it and made it the fifth agreement. What I'm saying is, I do appreciate skepticism. There's a staff member here who's very spiritual, and we have arguments about astrology (I say it's bullshit). And at my first program, there was a girl who mentioned several times that water changes on a molecular level when exposed to different emotions, and I heard another guy say when she wasn't around that everytime he hears someone say that he wants to cry bullshit but he doesn't. And that doesn't bother me because I'm not so sure about this either. My dad judges science fairs, and he says that there's always someone doing that experiment, where there's water with pictures by it, and the guy who did the experiment claims the water molecules by the happy picture are much prettier than the water molecules by the angry or unhappy picture, but my dad looks through the microscope and says really, there's no difference.

But anyway, here's what got to me. The spiritual staff I mentioned before said she had a lighter in her car, because she's saged it once or twice. Julia questioned the whole saging thing, and the staff said it's a Native American thing that gets rid of negative energy. And then I mentioned something that's completely true, which was that my sister saged a spirit out of her apartment. Then I think that the staff questioned if that would work, and I mentioned the spirit eventually came back. Anyway, it was a true story, because these sorts of things happen to my sister, and different weird things happen to me. Saging out a spirit? Normal. But then I realized that some people don't come from my family and to them it's not normal, and the manner in which I spoke of it sort of made it sound like I made it up. So I said something like, "I didn't make that up that's actually true." And then Julia says, "You better stop talking about these spirit things, because if you don't youo might actually start believing them." And I was angry about this, and I wanted to insult her and get revenge somehow, but I try to be mature, and one thing that I strongly feel is immature is the need to get revenge, especially about small things, and this was a small thing. But eventually, I realized that it was funny. Because she doesn't realize that I'm dead fucking serious about believing in spirits. It's not a joke to me. But at the same time, spirits are an inside joke I share with myself that I can laugh about forever and it will never get any less funny. Dammit, this is complicated.

I realize that writing this has been therapeutic to me, and I've concluded that maybe it's not a flaw to be open about what you believe. The exception is if you believe something that could be seen as offensive. Or at least, you should be open about things that are central to who you are, like my belief in spirits. Your opinion on abortion? Keep that to yourself. But as for things that define you (because if your opinion on abortion is what defines you I think you're lame), you should be open and you will attract people who are like you and distance yourself from the people you want to be distanced from. Except, sometimes you have to get along with people you don't like, so that won't always work.

I had a lucid dream where there was a famous lady showcasing furniture in an outside arena. I asked a woman why I was dreaming about this, which is a cool trick because sometimes their answers make sense, and she told me that it was about being open about things. I also had a website for my lesbian alter ego. True story. I mean, it was true in the dream.