I had a dream.

About my Mema and Papa's house. I don't know why I am writing about it, but It happened like 2 months about and I am still thinking about it. I was walking down their street, Sunset Blvd. I think it was, in the middle of the night and I walk up to the sidewalk at the street. And I just stand there and look at the house. And I remember all the fun times and happy memories I had there and I start to cry and I sit on the steps of the house right under where the mail box used to be attached to the siding, and this lady comes outside and asks me if I am ok. And instead of explaining why I am crying on her front porch I just say that I am fine and that I am only early to repaint her address on the curb and the other painters will be there soon. I also tell her that her phone number used to be FE 71156 but she doesn't know what I am talking about, and I just keep on crying and walk down to the taco villa. I remember waterballons and painting turtle shells with fingernail polish in the back yard. And locusts in my shoes. And that only reminds me how angry I am at my uncle for abandoning me and my brother and my aunt and how I can never forgive him. Now I am really sad tonight. I am going to sit in the shower and try to breathe a little. I think I overwhelmed myself with future plans which caused me to revert into past issues I have yet to deal with. Breathe in. Breathe out. I can't believe I am going to post this crap. Now we know why blogging can be detrimental to your life.