Unlike most other nights and mornings, I actually went to work with about 3.5 hours of sleep. My brain isn’t functioning that well and I’m not joking this time. I actually feel quite bad right now. Regardless, I had dreams and this dream or these dreams were a bit disturbing for me.

I dreamed mainly about Erica and a little about Iris. Patrick was in there too, along with my mom, my dad, Brandon, my brother, my aunt and even JD and JL, but primarily it was about Erica. You see, Erica and I moderate a web site together and we have access to each other’s private messages between people. However, even though I have this power, I don’t easily check other people’s messages unless I really need to and this need is only induced by reports made by people.

In my dream, the distance caused by Erica fueled my mistrust of her and this in turn, caused me to check up her private messages. Mind you, this was in my dream. It didn’t happen in reality and it never will. In her messages, I found that other men were contacting her and this was no big deal normally, but I found the messages to be very similar to the ones I shared with her in the beginning of our ‘relationship’. A lot of innuendo, subtly sexual, almost intimate. The more I read into her messages by various people, the more I became tormented. The visuals surrounding my dream was that of me treading through fields of tall thick grass, in light fog, cloudy skies, old wooden fences, unmaintained bushes and trees, met with ditches and dirty creeks.

Somehow, continuing that dream, I was at a plaza where my friends and family were all going a fast food place to get ‘Slurp’ – buckets or big cups of it, with straws. Some of them would drink ‘Slurp’ or not, but they would all bring it outside to this other place, like a stable for pigs and horses and exchange ‘Slurp’ for tickets or animal feed. The only people not doing this was Patrick and I. We were on our mountain bikes and it was foggy all around the outside of the plaza. Pat stayed behind to watch them while I went out to the fog to explore.

Heading out to the parking lot, I noticed in the near distance something that looked like Mount Fuji. Except for some reason, it looked very scary, as if it was monstrous and ‘hovering’ over me. I rode closer to it and noticed huge yellow, green and brown fields all over its surface. Mount Fuji looked more vertical, like a tube with the bottom a bit wider than the top and it looked very surreal and that size, the fact that the size and how it was shaped really spooked me and I wanted to look away, but at the same time, I kept looking at it. I briefly looked back to where the plaza was and everyone was there, doing their weird things while Pat watched on. I was close-ish to them, but I felt very very very far from them at the same time and very very very close to Mount Fuji that is supposed to be very very far.

As I sat there on my bike, mesmerized and spooked, I also kept thinking about all those obstacles and distrust that resulted from those unnecessary obstacles Erica put between us and in my dream, I said one thing that I still remember to now – something nearly inaudible, but I ‘heard’ it as I woke up. I said, “I need to wake up”.

I think this was the only time ever, that I woke up when I was ‘supposed to’, right when the alarm went off.

How did Iris fit into any of this? Patrick and I started at a straw hut. We weren’t going to go riding, but Iris came out and encouraged me to go ride. I insisted we stayed there to keep her company, but she persisted and so we went. When we go to the fast food place, Iris called me and yelled at me for riding off. I ‘said’ something that ‘sounded’ like, “You told us to go ride and now you’re angry that we went for that ride?”

When I got out of bed and received her email, then read it, I sighed once again. Earlier, I had another blog entry I removed from the site after about two weeks. In that entry, I mentioned my irritation towards Iris that she seems to love ‘blaming’ me for things she initiates. In that earlier entry, she asked me in MSN whether I would be ‘like this’ every time we chatted. “This” being spewing out my thoughts and feelings. Now, we had talked a few times before, but that was the 2nd time I mentioned about my thoughts and feelings AND the ONLY reason I brought them up was because she asked a question that pertained to that. I wouldn’t have shared those thoughts and feelings with her, if she hadn’t asked.

Now, I got the email from her this morning about the sexual dreams I had of her and she told me that she was disappointed that it had come to my sexual fantasies about her, rather than more intellectual conversation. Previous to this email, I had told her I hesitate in telling her my sexual dreams, but I told her a little, just to satisfy her curiosity. Now, this is more complicated than it should be, but basically she feels I shouldn’t have to hold back in telling her things, but at the same time, being as ultra perceptive as I have almost always been, I calculated the ‘risk’ of getting an earful of further unwarranted accusations. I went against my own intuition and told her. She now feels that “it’s all in my head” – something I detest her saying, because she started saying this after the one time I mentioned this, BUT the biggest difference is that she continues to use it out of context as if I am a 5 year old child who has a very bad memory. Like I need to be reminded that “it’s all in my head”.

I am sick of this.

I wouldn’t be fantasizing about her sexually if she hadn’t told me what she wanted to do to me in chat. So as you can all see, I hesitated because again, she blamed me for things she initiates. No shit it’s “all in my head”, but don’t tell me you want to do sexual things to me and expect me to NOT think about it, then ask me at a later day why I hesitate in telling her about my dreams, when she comes back at me later on, being ‘disappointed’ and picking out that “it’s all in my head”. I didn’t think a fantasy was anything BUT a fantasy made up in someone’s mind. It’s like redundantly pointing out the obvious. Like picking up an orange and saying, “Dude, it’s a fruit!” Really? She was the one who told me what she would like to do to me in chat, in which I remembered and used to fuel my fantasy, which in turn, morphed into my dreams.

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