If Dreams Have Meaning

This one is chock full of warnings and such. I just need to get down what I can remember, so future generations can scratch heads and wonder what I was on.

Starts off at a party. Simple enough, drinks are going about and I have a few. My designated driver is Josh, and I keep an eye on him the whole time to make sure he doesn't imbibe, because I'm worried he will and the drive home takes us on the highway.

Eventually it's time to head home, we bid everyone goodbye and we're on our way in his snaz-tastical Nissan Z from the 80's. All seems fine until we're going down an off-ramp that has a tight curve to it, and Josh decides he needs something from the BACK OF THE CAR. He tells me to steer the car, and then as he's reaching back his foot presses down on the gas pedal. You know, to the floor.

Turns out my esteemed friend had been enjoying drinks while I was in the bathroom.

So now the car is belting down the off-ramp, going faster than the tires can keep grip in the direction I need them to. Long story short, we slam into the guard-rail hella hard, and then fly -over- it and spiral about 12 feet to the ground. His car is fucked, everything is fucked. We are all fucked.

Dazed as fuck, we get out of the car, and Josh is stressing about his parents. I'm pissed. OH AM I PISSED. He's worried about getting yelled at while I'm standing next to what I thought would be my coffin.

Now some weird shit happens that I don't quite remember. It's too fuzzy to be sure about, but it also didn't have much of anything to do with my dream. The original one at least.

When things sorta start making sense again - and I do mean sorta - we're in some really slummy area. Think District 9 slums but with normal people, not bug-people. The car is just sitting in the same position as before, FUBAR but in the middle of some slums instead of it's original resting place next to an off-ramp like a good wreck should be.

We have some non-consequential interactions with the surrounding society, Josh looking for someone who has a car like his that they'll sell him, and me looking for help for us period - I don't have health care in this dream, and I'm terrified that I'm going to get taken to a hospital and get a bill I'll never be able to pay. I get a text from my friend Alscye. She's worried about me because I haven't texted her since I left the party and there's reports of a deadly car accident on the road I was supposed to be on. Simple enough, I text her back that yeah, that was me.

Then, as I'm standing there, I try to take another step forward, but everything feels numb. I reach my hand back to feel blood on my body. I look up at some random black guy who looks sorta like Morgan Freeman, and he's shouting to some people in the slums for help. I collapse into a puddle of what I'm now pretty sure is that red stuff I need to live, and the Morgan Freeman guy? Some family who pulled over to the accident. Apparently I was a lot more injured than I originally thought.

Paramedics come, which is a horrible thing, because I don't want to die, but I -really- don't want to spend the rest of my life paying someone for the life I have.

Stupid dreams.

I've already analyzed what I can remember, and it basically comes down to: I'm terrified of getting hurt and having to go to the hospital because of no insurance, I have trust issues with my friend Josh, I have a great friend who actually checks on me in Alscye, and I am afraid that even occasional social drinking is going to lead to a severe, severe consequence unless I do it with those I trust most to do it with.

Ok, So I'm Sorta Back

I realize this thing died, had a friend point it out to me a couple of nights ago. Well we can't have that, now can we?

So here I am, back again. For how long? Spin the roulette and find out, because I'm as sure as you are.

I listed this as a personal blog, but I ended out doing things like writing reviews and opinion pieces. That was fun, and I'll still do that, but I'm noticing that people are using blogs as vents and therapeutic solutions lately, and I think I'll do the same. It's not like I have millions of readers I'm going to run off simply because I bitch a bit. Maybe just a few friends who don't want to hear it.

Either way, that's what's happening, the direction this blog is going to take for a while. This undeniably will mean that you will hear about my mother quite a bit. She's the prime motivator of stress in my life, nothing new, and now I have a place to speak shit and pretend it's been heard.

This might be what it takes to get me writing every day, so be it.

Also, cuss words are in, fuck.

A Personal Note on the Election, from My Facebook

I wrote this last night after the election had ended. Logging in, I had seen that many a friends status had changed to reflect disgust for America, and quite a few had stated their intent to leave the country, because it must have fallen into the worst of bad shoes. This bothers me no end, and when I become passionate about something, as I am with my country, then I write. And so I did.

This is that note.

Ok, I'm going to be straight blunt. No dodging bullets and laying it on thick so it goes down sweet. First off, Barack Obama and Joe Biden won both the popular and the electoral votes. Landslide. This is America. We're designed to work -somewhere- along those lines. People who play this partisan game and hate on a candidate because he or she Democratic or Republican need not apply to this, as you don't qualify as an informed voter to me whatsoever. You make your decisions based on what your party says is right, and you dare not cross barriers, for some godforsaken reason or another.

The Founding Fathers warned of parties, but we couldn't avoid them. The biggest downfall of a democratic nation is when the people stop deciding for themselves and start following the opinions of a select group of people, whether it's perfect for them or not. This is what partisanship is. I vote Republican because I am Republican. I vote Democrat because I am Democrat. That's not how this country was originally designed, and it's just lazy should you never even consider the other side, third options.

Beyond that, those who constantly talk about 'leaving America' because your candidate didn't make it into office, I challenge you: Make good on this promise. Leave this country, go to Peru, Europe, where ever you feel you'll be better received. No one demands you remain. But I tell you, don't be surprised when you find that other countries aren't better than here. Here, voices are heard. This year, the loudest voice was for Obama. If you love America, at -all-, then you know this is how our country works. America got what it wanted. -You- are not America. You are one piece that makes the puzzle.

McCain has my maximum respect. The man ran a fair campaign, and he was an upstanding guy. As a matter of fact, Palin was the dead weight that ruined his ticket for me. I don't want to get into that, but I want to say that I'm not some neo-liberal super-leftist. I'm registered Republican. I just found Obama to be the better ticket.

This country will continue to grow, prosper, and be plain awesome. There isn't another place in the world like this. Look far and wide, it's just not the same. America is an amazing place, and it's leaders always want the best for it. They may not always accomplish the goals they set out, but it is said that if you accomplish all your goals before you die, you underestimated yourself. I want to fix the world, but I realize I cannot do it all. Our President will want to do the same, but a man is a man, no matter the title he carries. Expect Obama to do his utmost to make his country the best he can. Those who are so closeminded as to turn a blind eye and instead blindly believe the country is over, please. The door is on the left.

Those who voted on belief, research, and non-partisan reasons, and really looked into things, I commend you. You are my brothers, my sisters. McCain supporters, thank you for supporting your candidate until the end. Thank you for standing by your beliefs and for taking the time to be an American, vote, and make your voice heard. I have utter respect for you, and nothing less. Those who voted for Obama, you know the feeling of democracy in action in a kinder light, but I say the same thing to you. Thank you for doing what true Americans do. Thank you for being another intricate, important cog in the one of a kind watch that is America. As a whole, it may feel that we are not felt, not seen, but every cog must move to make the watch work.

Now, it's time for America to look forward, and hope, hope constantly for the best.

Tell me what you think, how you stand. This is America, we all have voice here.

Personal Reflections on Psychology, Pt.1

Today I'm going to look at something I have learned about during my time here on Earth.

We all experience it, though most of us don't realize that it's there. It's the effect a room has upon us, and our personality at that moment. We've all heard how certain colors being prevalent in a room will influence the way we feel. Certain colors have a calming effect, making you feel more at ease with yourself and those around you. Other colors can bring out anger, rage, jealousy, and apprehension.

Now, we know that colors influence the way we feel in a place, but the lesser known fact is that previous experiences can greatly impact how you feel about where you are. It's a sad, but proven fact that victims of heinous crimes often will feel the most vulnerable and exposed when in the same room or place the crime was committed. It is often much, much harder for a widow to move forward from their loss while living under the same roof that their spouse once shared with them.

This is so true, in fact, that many professionals suggest that, in order to get the best night sleep, you should refrain from doing much else in your bed -but- sleep. If you play games, browse the net, talk on the phone, and so on a lot while in bed, your body won't become accustomed to the bed as the chosen place of rest, and it will take you up to 30 minutes longer to pull off your much needed shut eye.

This comes around to my point. If the power of previous experience is so strong that it can bring someone to tears, even to suicide, then it should become obvious fast that we should put ourselves most often in places that make us feel the best. Living in a house with a person you hate, and have hated for a while now, can be detrimental to your mental health and stamina. You'll find that if you cannot tolerate the other person, you will sleep later, longer, and wake up constantly groggy and possibly even slightly angry.

The worse part is, these feelings, once firmly set, are hard to escape while within the barriers of the rooms filled with such experiences. Intense hurt will not wane, even when the room is devoid of all but yourself. Screaming matches with your mother or father, long past, will still dwell within you when you stand in the rooms where they often happened. Dealing with these problems is something everyone can do, but it's truly a journey for yourself and yourself alone.

The worst situation one can find themselves in is when you are in a place full of these negative emotions, and cannot find a way out. The combination between the two will cause them both to increase in intensity, as you're faced with what seems to be a room, full of poison gas, and no way to escape it. You begin to panic, breathing quickens in pace, and you've effectively succumbed to the 'poison' in an even quicker fashion.

Such is the case with my house. Coming home is the worst part of the day, any and every day. What's expected, as I walk up the driveway to enter what most would call a humble abode, is fear, anger, hate, regret, and a whole slew of negative emotions. They bombard me before I even walk inside. This is because of repeated, inescapable arguments with my mother, where bumping heads have turned into tooth and nail ravishing that leaves our emotions torn and bloody, and our feelings for each other just that little bit more tattered than before.

I know first hand how powerful emotions from previous experiences can be, and it's a good thing to know that these are the reasons you may feel uneasy around someone, something, or someplace. Identify an exit before you attempt to face such emotions, and after you can assure yourself that escape is possible, that your personal battle won't back you against a wall, then begin the healing process that you alone must find. If you can't find an exit, then force yourself to search for a way out before allowing yourself to experience those emotions full-swing. I wish I could tell you exactly how to handle a situation where the bad experiences are still piling, but all I can say is that if you have the means, and the problems are so bad, walk away from them. Save the healing for another day.

It is said that those who live today, will survive to fight again tomorrow.

Crazy, Troubling Dreams...

So, I had an interesting set of dreams recently. The interesting part, is that these dreams are separated by weeks, and yet perfectly link up to each other. I don't have that happen often, and even less so, so long apart. It made the dream seem frighteningly real.

Due to the fact that this has perturbed me so, I'm going to write both dreams out to you, and to myself, for future generations to wtf about.

The first dream, occurring no less than three weeks before the second, goes easily enough:

I'm myself, first person, at an unknown and at least half-popular band's concert. Really enjoying myself, I'm partially moshing around, yet avoiding the main fray because I'm a little afraid of hurting someone, or a real brawl to break out.

As I'm listening, and bouncing around a little, I accidentally bump this chick in front of me, who turns around to get in my face about it. Then, I recognize her as one of my middle school teachers, a particular one that was really young for being a teacher, which would explain why she was there.

So, after recognizing one another, we start to catch up. She asks me how I got in, the tickets here were hard to get so close. I tell her that I'm friends with the band, and they get me in to most of the concerts. I'm basically working for them apparently, a quality control agent. If the band doesn't sound up to par, I inform them after the show, and they mix it up.

She thinks that's an awesome job to have, and asks about aspirations, as teachers often do. I tell her my aims are high, that I want to own a large-scale graphics business, and set it up to earn my money whilst I cater to my real creative side. She loves the idea, and tells me to go for it, and I smile and tell her that I'm already on my way. A little more indiscernible conversation occurs, and the dream is at an end.

The first dream was in my original conclusion really enjoyable, and a good sign for my overall mental health, even if it really seemed like a small dream.

Then, last night, my second dream.

Everything starts with Josh, the teacher, a few other people, and myself all wearing the same, blue shirts while getting preparations done at this really high-rise resort along the beach. We've all come together to run this cool contest for teens, something about finding the most outstanding, well-rounded individual in the US.

Josh is the host of the whole thing, announcing the next challenge, and talking them through it. The teacher is doing the coordination, setting everything up and making sure that the area the next challenge is in is arranged before the group arrives, and assuring that everything goes smoothly during the competition. I'm doing the interviews and all the film-related stuff, carrying a nice camera around with me everywhere, and generally keeping myself busy.

Most of the challenges go by without an issue, everything working out perfectly. Josh is doing a good job with keeping the people entertained and active in what they should be doing. Together, him and I keep them upbeat and lighthearted, even when some of them lose friends as they're eliminated, or get stressed when they come close.

The last step of the contest involving physical capability just over, all of the remaining kids start in for the resort. I get some filming done of them walking up the beach, and then head in with the rest of the staff, Josh staying behind to speak with the kids as they all head for the next challenge.

I ride up an elevator with around eleven other people, including my old school teacher, and we enter a room not unlike a furnished warehouse. It's walls and ceiling are dry walled and such, painted and furnishings put out such as seats and stuff, but you get this feeling that it's more for storage than for other people in the resort to see.

In the back of the storage room, there are all these desks set up in a semi-circle, and I count no less than fifty. Setting myself up for the shot when the kids come out of the elevator and up the stairs to arrive, I leave everyone else who's working alone.

The kids arrive, I get my shots, and they all sit and wait on the floor, a little ways away from the desks. We're waiting for the people who came up with me to finish setting up. Josh is trying to inspire the group to keep them upbeat, and calls me into it. We both have a good time keeping them excited, with myself pulling off a huge chant with them all, as they were getting loud and no one could hear anything we had to say.

My old teacher comes up to Josh, whispers something in his ear, and then he announces that it's time for the next challenge. He stands up, motions for everyone to move to a desk in the semicircle, and reveals what appears to be the next challenge, saying that we're going to talk about Katrina.

I shrug off the fact that I don't like the topic at hand, seeing as I know Josh well enough that he thinks Katrina and New Orleans was all retarded. He's said to me again and again that he thinks they're a bunch of whiners that got what was coming to them, and that people in Mississippi are overlooked, even though they had huge flooding. It's his choice, and everyone had at least one contest that was theirs personally.

As a person who looks a -lot- like Steven's dad stands in the middle of the semi-circle, talking about something that doesn't seem to pertain to Katrina in the slightest, motions to the group about part of the challenge being the creation of a petition, I scan the kids with my camera. I eventually do a close-up of some medals that the guy has on display, and then retreat to this little cubby over in the corner of the room, where I can film the speaker without being in the way of everyone.

When I get there, Jake is there too, working on his camera. He's wearing a blue shirt too, so he's part of the team. We talk quietly for a bit, enjoying a bit of reminiscing while the kids listen to the speaker. So far, everything is great. Then, as suddenly as can be, it all collapses.

As we're quietly speaking, and I'm filming, Brenden Tidd, whom a lot of you reading this do not know, points to our cubby and makes a move towards it, calling it something like a personal throne room. My old teacher tells him to sit back down, or else, and Tidd rebutts that we're back there, so he can be.

My old teacher responds that it doesn't matter, as both Jake and I are off the team, and we need to leave immediately. Jake and I grow indignant, because we did nothing wrong. Jake ends up just leaving, and my old teacher comes over to the cubby, telling me again that I have to leave.

I call her out, telling her that it's crap that she even thinks she can do this, as I was one of the originals who came up with this idea. Then, she starts ripping at me, telling me that I've always been so full of myself. I'm confused, and let her know that. She informs me that I think I'm so much better than anyone else, and that I've constantly got to let other people know that. Now I'm both hurt and confused. She's smiling, and tells me that she's never really appreciated me as a person, and refers to the time at the concert, saying that she 'had to endure me' through the entire thing, and that I ruined the entire experience for her. I'm angry now, because I really liked her, and she seemed to like me as a person back. Suddenly, I feel like all this trust I put into her has been wasted, and I'm holding myself back from doing something really bad, when she pipes up that 'everyone on the team agrees.'

Then, my alarm clock goes off. I decide that this is a dream that I don't want to pursue, and wake up to write this for future reference. Had my alarm gone off a few moments earlier, then it would have been an amazing dream. As it stands, it sucked it up horribly.

So go figure. I'll reread this later, and maybe try to analyze it. Tell me what you think. Keep it serious, at least as serious as you can.

P.S.: This is counting as a Writing Exercise.

Blast From The Past: Mystery Review

February 1, 2008 by Wolfey

Ok, so sue me. Oh, look at him, Wolfey won't update fast enough for me, he's so slow. What's his problem?

Come on, I know you 5 readers are thinking that. Well, here's another, straight from this slow-pokes mouth.

This afternoon, I was sitting in the restroom, conducting business nature had long ago planned for all of us in her uber eco-corporate office of hers, and thinking about this site.A majority of you who I know read this, well, I know face to face. I don't really expect a lot of outside readers, as much as I would absolutely -love- to have people I've never met from all around the world reading about my life and laughing at it like it's a big sit-com. I had plans for this place, people! I was going to be a -star-! Write about the news, say my piece on just about every topic under the sun, and most of all, -review- things.

Yeah, that far-fetched dream where a few producers throw me a bone every once in a while, so as I may give my unfettered spin of what should be where and why I do/don't like said product. Instead, here I am, hardly saying a word. Well, one step at a time. And with that said, I bring you my next review, with a little prologue on where I got the idea.

Remember, I was sitting on the pot.

Cottonelle Ultra, brought to you by the makers of Kleenex, the tissue used most by football players after they declare that they're 'going to Disneyland!' (Superbowl Sunday, people! COMMERCIAL TIME :D) Being on sale at Publix for the attractive price of 2 for 7.00$, my sister and I got 12 rolls of the stuff, hoping for the best.

Now, I'm not picky about my toilet paper. I notice a lot of these producers put frilly patterns on my ass-paper, and frankly, I don't understand it. It sits on a roll in a bathroom that is deserted for most of the day, and when someone arrives, it's shining moment of recognition is also it's downfall. You don't look at toilet paper unless you plan on using it. Well, Kleenex seems to know this and skips over the frills for a very, very functional ridge design. It makes me think I have some professional toilet paper, like it went to school for this.

One issue I have had with toilet paper in the past happens to be with texture and softness. I'm a man, and as a man, I like some rough things. I like to play football, I like to fight, and I also like to ATV when I can through mud, bushes, and other wilderness things. I do not like to be reminded of these things while in the process of using my toilet paper. I'll be the man to admit what we've all been thinking: as manly as we like to be, we like soft, supple toilet paper that makes our asses feel like pampered princesses. Those who do not agree, please get a reality check, or just use leaves. This Cottonelle Ultra was amazingly what I was hoping for, making... well, making my ass feel like a pampered princess. Next paragraph.

Something we all don't want to think about when we're thinking toilet paper (as if we like to think toilet paper) is whether it's going to be there for the long run. That's right, none of us want to think about that paper that ends out like Mir coming out of orbit halfway through a wipe. We want a paper that'll hold up through a wipe, fold, and make another pass. Give me my snowspeeder of toilet papers! It has finally come to pass: this toilet paper can easily take down any AT-AT you have... up there.

Lastly, for the fact that I'm actually in a writing mood, I'll tackle an altogether nonexistent issue with toilet paper: the mascot. I've never really been sold on mascots, more pushed away than anything. Some of them make no sense when it comes to our product. Little sewing ladies doesn't bring to mind -anything- I'd even remotely want near my ass, and the big fat bears strike fear to my exposed rear more than anything. and then you have Cottonelle, with a cute little puppy dog. It doesn't click any better, at first, but I now understand the message. Puppies are soft, and fluffy, and I'm sure if you found the urge would make your ass feel pampered and royal. Ah ha! What's more perfect (and televisable) to represent a content rump than a fluffy, fuzzy and soft puppy! My seat needs no shriveled old ladies sticking needles in my paper, nor do I want toilet paper that may attract bears. I don't care how many puppies play in my unraveled toilet paper as I do my business!

Ahem.

As for Cottonelle Ultra from Kleenex, I give it a 10 out of 10. I can assure you you'll have an enjoyable experience in your selected restroom establishment. Next week: ENDURANCE TESTING.

Just a Little Notice

As I begin to write more on this blog, I plan on carving a new one out of it, with more focus and a real drive behind it. A specific topic, you know? Think about Engadget, TUAW, Switched. Blogs that report on information, in a tailored fashion to a select audience. I doubt I'd be the next Engadget, but I'd still love to give it a good, solid try.

This is where my current base comes into play. You are all my friends, my family. I have a few ideas, and I'd like a few more. If you want to make a suggestion, talk to me about it, email me, anything to get them into my head to mull, mix, and become something.

More than that, I need talented writers who want something to give them direction. We all have blogs, but few of us write. So, if you write well, and you know how to research, then get in contact with me, and we'll see if we can't work something out. What could be cooler than being the base of a start up blog that could one day be huge?

Ok, maybe a lot of things, but still.

I can't wait for the -enthusiastic- response I'm sure to get!

Anyone?... Hello?...