Friday, June 6, 2008

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.

2 comments:

  1. Have you been getting drunk alone? It's ok to drink alone, just don't get drunk alone. Too depressing, you have to have someone with you to laugh at when you are drunk... otherwise shit like this happens... call you Aunt, I think you have your facts wrong.

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  2. I am not drunk nor am I drinking alone. I was not drunk I was venting. I can do whatever I want, Its my blog.

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