He held me in his arms and
sang love songs in my ear.
In that moment he had 
snatched the heart from my chest.
It was the most beautiful thing
anyone has ever done for me.

I am made of the lonely feeling of seeing lights in the distance, standing in the snow in the middle of the night. I am made of the sound of rain on your window as the cold autumn wind seeps through the cracks, chilling your skin. I am made of the silence between the snowflakes. I am made of the endless potentials in the rainbow of skeins in the yarn aisle. I am made of the shimmering motes in the shafts of setting sun light pouring golden through the windows of an empty church on a Tuesday evening. I am made of the scent of strong coffee, the weak waft of menthol cigarettes and a flowery scent that reminds you of your childhood. I am made of the hollow nostalgia one feels as you pass a boarded up old gas station, the only building for miles around, on what was once a busy stretch of highway. I am made of the sound of the wind in the corn. I am made of dappled light on green leaves, swaying over drying creek beds. I am made of forgotten cobble bricks under asphalt in your historic downtown alleyways, sporting moss and dandelions. I am made of faded ribbons tied to fence posts. I am made of the icy pinpricks of stars on a clear moonless night, shining distant and sharp as knives. I am made of the warmth of a cat sleeping peacefully in the sun. I am made of the creaking of floorboards in the abandoned mill you aren't supposed to be in, and the hammering of your heart as you open another door. I am made of the restlessness of youth, sitting on the shingles outside the attic window, wanting to go but not knowing where. I am made of broken clocks, for whom time stands still, but cannot deny the cycle of light and dark outside the window. I am made of shattered glass on the side of the road. I am made of forgotten flowers beds, over flowing here, withered to rattling stalks there, all full of grass and weeds. I am made of echos along dry canyon walls. I am made of  empty sense of accomplishment that video game achievements bring. I am made of collected bits, that I swear I have a use for, eventually, maybe, one day. I am made of book half-read. I am made of shaky hands writing shaky words, begging to be understood. 

My dreams have had some really good plots lately. Holy cow.
I had a couple other ream bits before hand.

 There was something about my brother busting my sunglasses at a play rehersal, and I was like "I'm telling mom!"

Then I was on some space exploration mission. We had landed on a planet and ended up surrounded by an alien horde. They were gearing up to fight when they realized that our group had women. Something about their culture made them think that females were kind of mythical and they didn't want to harm us because they were curious. An elder showed another lady and I a book about how all the females blasted off centuries ago. I was like "same, dude, same". Our group leader wanted to exchange supplies and technology, but one shit head was like "sabotage the heathen!" I was trying to deactivate his firebomb he had rigged, to make sure none of the aliens were harmed so that if humanity ever came back, they wouldn't be reviled because of this one shit nugget. Also, they had the tech for space travel, so they could've followed us...

I arrived at a school on a bus. I was there to be a student. I needed a bathroom and the closest one was down a hall that had like hospital corridor style doors across it. I tried to open the door, but it was locked, or being held shut. A male voice asked for a password. I don't remember if I got it right or if I pleaded my case really well, but he let me in. It would appear that this school was part of a movie, because this "kid" was being played by grown ass adults. The guy on the other side was about my age and greying a bit, clearly an adult. (Come on! Even in my dreams, they can't hire kids to play kids!) I went to the bathroom and went to my next class, and there was grey-dude. We exchanged witty banter, he said something like "Im 18, but I'm pretending to be 32", to which I replied "well, I'm 26, pretending to be 16". He just kind of chuckled and went back to working on some complicated cryptogram. I gave him a few pointers and scooted my chair up close to help out.
Turns out, I'm actually an adult in this one. I was there to investigate allegations of extreme bullying. I had woken up in some sort of supply closet, and noticed a bowl and a cup on the floor. I then remembered/hallucinated vividly about some girl that didn't like me, gave a girl she had bullied into complacency into tricking me to drink this "tea" that was some kind of poison. Luckily, she dosed it wrong and I woke up ok, instead of dead or dying. Grey-dude found me and was hugging me really tight, going on and on about he was so scared he'd never find me and that he was so glad I was ok. He tried to kiss me but I stopped him. Partly because I didn't know if there was any lingering poison in my mouth, but also because "I wasn't joking. I am actually 26 pretending to be 16." I explained that I was a cop and what I was doing, and he was just kind of like "oh.... so are you with the City?" and he showed me his FBI badge. I just kind of smiled and said "how about we go to IHOP and talk about this over waffles."

I had a dream last night that I married my best friend.
He wore white silk pajamas, and I wore slightly fancier white silk pajamas.
We both wore simple flower crowns.
The cake was decorated with Calla lilies.
It was so beautiful and peaceful, I didn't want to wake up.
And when I did I was so sad that it wasn't real.

In this place, where I once was alive
searching for the fire in your eyes
there's nothing to see 
you're as empty as me
and I'm dressed in ash once again

I started this as a RP forum post. I've been thinking a lot about getting into RP again, but I just don't have the motivation any more. But anyway, this was the result of trying to get someone else on the forum to pick up my guys' trail and RP with me, damn it! If you know my characters, you'll be familiar with Baine. Andre is a new name for an old character. Dekarian was his original name. My brother named him, actually, when we'd tell each other stories to fall asleep. He probably doesn't remember. Anyway, here's the start. If that one person who views all my crap wants to RP with me, I'll do my best to keep the story going.

Andre turned off the TV. The news was so depressing. People fighting, women disappearing, crime, disorder, it was awful. The occasional uplifting stories were too few and far between. Besides, there was more fun stuff to do besides watch the same boring reels over and over again.

"Dude!" Baine objected from the other side of the apartment "I was listening to that."

Andre snorted, turning to his friend. "You can watch that some other time." Andre chuckled softly and made his way to the kitchen. "You want anything?" He called to his companion.

Baine, engrossed in fixing his decades old vacuum cleaner, grunted in affirmation. Andre fished out two sodas and lobbed one across the flat. It struck Baine squarely in the chest. Baine glared at Andre, wiping condensation from his shirt. "Why do you have to do that?" He muttered, drying his hand on his dusty jeans. Andre laughed musically and cracked open his beverage. He took a sip. He liked this brand. He couldn't hardly taste the chemicals that the artificial flavors were made from and they used real cane sugar. Little things like that went a long way with him.

"So," Andre set down his drink "I thought you said we were going camping this weekend. If I'd known you were going to be renovating the entire house, I wouldn't have packed the car, oh let's see, two hours ago!"

Baine sighed. "I'm sorry, man. It's just... when your folks came by to pick up Jonie... It's just really grungy here, isn't it."

Andre gave him a sympathetic smile. "No worries, bro. They know you're a busy guy. You don't always have time to clean"

Baine smiled back. "Thanks man." He wiped his brow and set down the screw driver. "I guess this can wait until we get back."

Andre grinned "That's the spirit! Let's go!"

Twenty minutes later, the two friends were in Baine's beat up old Jeep heading up to the mountains. Andre knew of a few lonely glacier lakes that would offer a quiet retreat from the stresses of life.

"Why are we going all the way out here?" Baine complained. It was so far out of the way and gas was not cheap.

"It's nice out here." Andre watched the countryside roll by, deep in contemplation. "Besides, you said you wanted to get away."

Baine scoffed "I didn't mean 'let's go hiking out in the haunted woods and get kidnapped'."

"No one said the forest was haunted," Andre smiled slyly "only infested with witches."

Baine glared approvingly at his friend. "Not funny, dude."

Andre simply smiled and toyed absently with his long, leaf green hair.

"Don't worry about it," he laughed "it's not like witches are real."

It was late in the afternoon when the two friends finally made it to their camping spot. They pitched their tent on the mossy bank of a modestly sized lake. They pitched their tent quickly. Baine set up their sleeping bags and began unpacking their gear while Andre dug a fire pit and got a small blaze dancing fairly quickly.

"Do you suppose there's ruins up here?" Baine asked, arranging their folded camp chairs next to the fire.

"I don't know," Andre replied '' maybe?" He shrugged and pushed a strand of his long green hair out of his face.

Baine shrugged and looked out across the water, his golden eyes ablaze in the dappled sunlight.

"Do you think there's fish in this lake?" He asked. Andre shrugged and wandered over to the water's edge. He squinted his jade green eyes against the glare. He could clearly see the shallow divots in the muddy bottom where Bluegill had made their nests, and the shadowy silhouettes of bass in the pond grasses deeper in.

"Yup, there's fish alright." He turned to Baine, still by the fire. "Gonna try to catch some?"

"You know it!" As urban as Baine liked to consider himself, one of his favorite pastimes was fishing. He hurriedly dug his fishing pole and tackle box form the back of the Jeep. "Gonna join me?" He asked Andre.

Andre didn't like fishing. He felt bad for the fish.

"Not this time," He replied. "I'll come with you anyway. Just in a witch tries to snatch you." He joked, but there was an unsettling stillness in the woods that he didn't like. He'd rather go with his friend than sit by the fire alone.

The boys made their way around the edge of the lake. Andre thought he heard soft footfalls behind them, but he shook it off as simply the wind rustling the underbrush. Besides, there were no other people for miles around, right?

They wandered about a quarter of a mile from their camp site. Baine cast his line in here and there, catching nothing. They came to a little outcrop of rock that jutted up out of the turf and down to the water, making a sort of natural jetty. Baine hopped along the rocks over the water to get a better vantage. Andre, still a bit unsettled took a seat under a nearby tree and tucked his knees up under his chin to watch his friend try to catch something.

Yet another cool dream

So, last night I had a kinda really cool dream. I was trying to find Major Kira Nerys from DS9, because a couple of the kids form the Brady Bunch were scared. They owed the mob a favor and to make sure the kids kept their promise, the mob stole their mom. Well, that's one way to do it. But first, I had to find the REAL Major Kira. Her bizzaro world counterpart was running around, trying to get into the armory, and I was like, "get ye gone, bitch" and locked her in a broom closet. The real Kira and I, under the watchful eye of Chief of Station Security Odo, all went to this little village where mob activity was supposedly happening. We ended up finding the mob boss's office. He had Phillip J Fry's mom with him, except she was people instead of a cartoon. She slipped us a note with where to find the missing moms, the pass codes and everything. The mob boss warned us not to try to find the moms, just give up, because they were all going to be dead soon anyway, then he locks us in the office, which was on the third floor of an old western style bank. Odo was like "bitch please", oozed under the window and undid the hinges on the outside so we could escape. He turned into a big inflatable rescue cushion like fire fighters use and Kira and I jumped out the window and snuck across a field until we came to the next town, where the moms where hidden. The mom bunker was hidden inside a Cuban sandwich shop, according to the note and the only way to signal to the mob person in the shop that you were part of the mob too was to request a specific song on the jukebox and dance a salsa. Kira did the dancing, and I did the head nod to the mobster to let him know that was on purpose. He let us in through a little door in the kitchen where we found the mom bunker. there were like 20-30 ladies in there and a doctor tyring to keep all the ladies calm and healthy... for now. Odo knocked out the doctor and turned into a lady so it wasn't obvious that there was a strange man there. Fry's mom was like "it's about time you got here, I'll send the signal to go". The go signal was rearranging books on a shelf so that the first letters of the titles read "moms weather all". The ladies organized and got on, like, a cargo lift that would take them to the roof. We got there and the mob boss had stadium bleachers set up around the edges of the roof and was like "pfft, like I didn't know you were going to do this" and had all his cronies in the bleachers open fire on the group. BUT Kira and I had set up a mobile emitter to project a hologram of everyone on the freight lift and all the mob dudes shot each other as the bullets whizzed right through the holograms. We had gotten everyone out through the sandwich shop instead.
I woke up then.