Got my first rejection! I’ve been initiated! I’m really an aspiring author now!
(Originally published at Anywhere Is…)
Long ago, I dated this guy. I’ll call him M. My mom had recently had a heart attack and he kind of panicked. One afternoon, we were hanging out in my apartment. I was craving something sugary, so I said, “I want something sweet.”
He knew, he KNEW I was craving something along the lines of oh say NOT HEALTHY AT ALL, and yet said with a beatific expression on his face, “how about a nice piece of fruit?”
I still laugh about that to this day.
I was checking out The Plain Dealer’s website for articles on that fire. As I was browsing, my skin started to crawl and I remembered how much I actually loathe and DESPISE that city.
I grew up there and I have a few good memories (mostly due to a select few people), but most of the memories are oppressing (due to a larger group of people).
I see the dirty looks that I get from people who think I never should have been born because my skin isn’t the right color, and/or they can’t figure out what/who I’m supposed to be. Or they have an idea that I don’t conform to which pisses them off.
When I think of school, the good memories are increasingly overshadowed by the overcrowding, the cynicism, the negativity, the lack of encouragement, not fitting in. High school was almost utter hell for me, save the fun times I had with those select few.
I never want to live there again.
Last night, I had a dream that there was a spider web in my kitchen, and a frog was stuck in it. I had no idea how to help the poor thing, but I felt bad. I knew some spider would have a feast. The little frog was struggling and trying to get out. I finally asked someone to help me (one of those faceless nameless people that pop into my dreams from time to time) and he got the frog free. The frog jumped all around the house, and there was no catching it. Happy to be free, perhaps?
I hate dreams about fires. There was a big fire in my dream last night. Seems like there are big fires everywhere. My mom told me of the deadliest fire in Cleveland that happened over the weekend. Eight children and a mom died. Three of the kids were burned to a crisp. The really freaky part is that one of the moms of the deceased children was cooking something in her microwave (a few days afterwards). She went to touch the numbers and noted the display. Instead of numbers (or a clock), it said CHILD. She said they showed it on the news and everything. It’s legit. And scary.
Anything that has to do with fire freaks me out; always has. Especially dangerous house fires and the like. Funny that I can sit around a campfire or a bonfire and be somewhat okay, but anything larger than that, and I tend to get nervous and panic a bit.