Running Away
Friday, May. 17, 2002 ~ 8:02 a.m.
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I hate when I wake up from a dream crying. In this dream a friend of mine died. Here's how it went. ~*~*~*~*~I lived in a house with my stepdad and mother and two friends, Greg (one of the head cashiers I worked with) and someone else. I wanted to run away. I felt trapped or something. My mother and Greg both supported my decision, my other friend wasn't sure and my stepdad knew nothing about it. My plan was to head north first. There was somewhere I wanted to visit up in Oregon I think. From there I was going to head south down to San Diego. The problem was that I didn't have a car. I was doing all this on my bike. So anyway. I manage to slip out of the house and head east to get something. I head back to the house 'cause I had forgotten something. My mother let me in the window and Greg gave me his credit card for money. My step dad was starting to catch on by that time, so I hurried back out of the house. I almost got caught. There was one more time I had to stop by the house and that time I did get caught. My stepdad kept me there, but he couldn't keep me long. I ran off again. This time I headed north. It seemed that the main north/south road passed right in front of our house. So it was easy to get going. I realized after going for a little bit that heading to Oregon was probably a mistake. Most the riding was going to be uphill, and I was going to wear myself out very quickly. I had gotten to a point where there were fields of corn on each side of the road. There were a couple other people coming south, but the were on horses and they lived in that area. I decided to turn around and head straight to San Diego. I probably should have taken a little side road past my house because as I was riding past, my stepdad was outside and he stopped me and took me inside. This time I couldn't leave. Curiosity and sadness made me stay. I was told that Greg had died, and I was devistated. My other friend went on to tell me how strange his illness was. Towards the end I could actually see him. He had a blanket over him and he looked fat, or at least extremely bloated. He was going on and on about something, but he wasn't making any sense. I saw him roll over once and grab a blow up plastic palm tree thing. He had apparently become obsessed with plastic blow up decorations before he died. ~*~*~*~*~I never actually saw him die though. The dream ended before that, but I was starting to cry. Maybe that's why I woke up. Anyway. In my last entry I had my list of goals and wants. One of them was to sleep when I should and not want to sleep when I could without really needing to. I didn't go to bed last night until almost 2am. I shouldn't have woken up at 8 and not want to go back to sleep, but I did. This is sorta what I'm talking about. When I do stuff like this, it's really, really hard to rest like I should be. 0 comments so far   
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