I was on a road-trip to go fishing. Car was slightly strange. Driver (a man, not me) was on the left, with one seat pushed up next to his like bench seats. A woman was sitting in the seat next to him. But there was a partition between the second and last seat in the front row like in bucket seats (I sat in the last seat in the front row), so the last person in the car was visible. A girl sat in the middle of the backseat. Apparently it was established the we liked each other. I held her hand for the duration of the trip. We saw very fast river rapids on the way in what looked like a man-made river. When we got to wherever we were going, the was a long wide path paved with gravel. Guy that was driving the car makes a teasing remark about how the girl sitting in the backseat and I could wait in the car, then mutters something about Casablanca. I say we'll be alright.

Dream #2

Chased by police, jumped off side of wall w/lots of greenery, land on a place w/two rail tracks next to each other, two people with me, I'm standing on the right track, other two are standing on the left, they're both run over by a train. Learning from their mistakes, I keep an eye out for a train. Tracks split in multiple directions in slightly hilly terrain, I go on whatever track has two next to each other so I can dodge an oncoming train. No other trains come. I make it to another town. Talk to people. For some reason within the dream I didn't thinking the technology would be this good, but it's no better than normal towns. I end up going to a mall there. I don't think I make it passed the parking lot. Something in the parking lot compels me to open my eyes.

Strange...

Everyday (or every week, I haven't quite decided yet) I'm going to post a little story. It might be complete, it might be a tidbit, or it might be a whole long thing. This first time I'm going to post a rather short piece I did as an exercize, mostly just because it's all I have on this computer. Not very good quality writing for me, but meh. Enjoy.

~~~

It is an intriguing yet often irksome thing to never be oneself- to always be a reflection of another. Too plain am I to constitute an identity, thus I seek the vision of a thing greater than myself. Such is my way. Without purpose, without hope, I show others their superficial and corporeal form. I’ve seen many a thing in my glass surface, a face and a shirt and a tip tapping tap shoe. If I am lucky, and fate’s beauty shines upon me, an item of glamour flatters me: a clean-cut suit coat, a silver watch, a pretty jewel. My existence is often a wait for an item of that sensational sort. To think that I could ever look so very glitzy as when a bow tie gleans my surface. The very thought makes me shiver in my frame. I know what you think- yes, I know, do not attempt to hide it. You think I’m conceited, self-centered, vain. I must confess I’m guilty of it all. But do you blame me? I do believe it’s our kind’s nature, a hereditary trait call it. And oh, I’m very sorry, but I mustn’t tell more. A man has walked into my midst, and he has yet to realize my true depth. If a human so close knew my potential, knew my reaches, it would surely be disastrous.