Bittersweet Candy Bowl

Why would gays hate prostitutes? That’s just nonsense.

I had a dream that Taeshi / Suitcase made a thread to celebrate my existence. I think there was a Nobel Prize involved in there somewhere.

Not in peace, surely? ^_^

I think it was Peace, but it could just as easily have been War or Human Eroticism.

Hee. I was going to suggest Literature, actually.

It could never ever be that. :|

But Peace is more likely? ^_^

Wait, I know. Physics.

That’s what I’m saying: you’d have to make an entirely new group of prizes for people like me.

When I reach the podium to make my acceptance speech, I’m going to say as solemnly as I can, “I’d personally like to thank President George W. Bush.” And then I run giggling off the stage with my prize in hand. As I run, they see that I have cut the seat from my pants and that the entire audience must now view my pert buttocks.

Perish the thought. ^_^

Hah, I see what you did there.

*giggles*

TEEHEE <3 :B

I had one dream where this girl I had a crush on was actually gay, and she was doing it with her friend’s mother.

And I had another where I had turned into mike and was eating tons of fish. Tasted like candy.

And I’m currently listening to greek radio, if anyone finds that funny.

I do, as a matter of fact. ^_^

It sounds greek anyway. Something mediterranean. On 89.3 where I am. WCSB

Hee. “Sounds Greek”. ^_^

Just called up my greek orthodox friend, his dad says it’s probably greek.

Oh, I do like Greek. I hope to learn some of it this Spring. ^_^

My previous girlfriend, Val, was Lebanese, and she was SUCH as babe. You know, a babe in that same Mediterranean-style. She was abusive as fuck though. You know how I’m always balls-out blunt now? It’s because I walked on eggshells for so long as a shy kid that I broke down and stopped giving a shit what people think.

I still have dreams where she tells me that I’m worthless and that I should kill myself. I can say that because I’m really really drunk today. I don’t look at porn as much specifically because I’ve seen her in amateur porn recently, and that just kind of breaks my heart somehow.

Lucy.

I wish I could remember dreams…

Sometimes I forget my dreams as well. Especially sucks when you figure something out, or there’s a really cool storyline in the dream that you know would make an excellent novelette, and it’s just gone…

Apparently, humans have over 1000 dreams every night, if we’re lucky, we’ll remember maybe 1 or 2.

…

Just throwing that out there.

I once had a dream where Dark was in control and froze time in my school with a ray. Some people were unaffected by the freeze which intrigued me. I accidentally knocked over a frozen in time girl, making Light take control and bang my head repeatedly on the gray-spotted white tile floor. That stopped the ray, and then I woke up. Light can be a pain sometimes…..

Aw Jerky, do you need a hug?

“Sure, I’ll be your friend again,” he says laughing, “but only if you can find my favorite pair of sneakers.”
Shit. I took them, didn’t I? A year ago, as a joke. And when he broke my heart, I never gave them back. Oh damn, where did I put them?
“Okay, Hannah? I just want my shoes back.”
Yeah, well I want my life back in hands! I’m sick of you juggling it! “Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll find them, don’t worry,” I tell him, already feeling the panic washing over me.
“Good,” he laughs.
Oh god, I want to punch that stupid grin off his face. When did those quirks, words, smiles stop being endearing? When did he start driving me crazy by turning a blind eye to my existence? So at least he’s speaking to me again.
I check all my usual hiding spots: the back of my closet, under my bed, the bathroom waste bin, behind the washing machine.
“Four more hours by the way,” his drawling voice reaches my eyes and I freeze up.
“You’re timing me?!” I snarl. “What the hell?”
“It’s just an eye for an eye, Hannah,” he smirks. “It’s only fair right?”
Dragging my nails down the sides of my face—a bad habit I swore I’d quit, I can’t look him in eye—“No. Fair is taking my shoes when I stole yours. But that’s not what this is really about, is it?”
He doesn’t answer—just a pair of hazel-red eyes staring at me.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I laugh bitterly.
“Just give me my goddamn shoes,” he states coldly.
“I don’t know where they are!” I snap back and automatically begin chomping on my hands to calm my nerves—another bad habit.
He slides over, pressing his lips against my ear, “Well then, that’s your problem, isn’t it?”
I bite my lip. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Four hours later, I’m watching him walk out of the door.
“See you tomorrow, Hannah,” he smirks, waving an airy hand in my direction.
I’ll see you in hell. Slamming the door behind him, I finally allow myself the relief of sliding to the floor and crying.
And that’s when I remember where I put his shoes.
I hid them in the far corner of my heart, along with the rest of him, so I can pretend that I don’t care anymore.

this happened just last week:
After i started to read BCB i was up late trying to catch up, i was lisening to music, which is mostly rock, when one of my rare soft songs came on, it was 1:00 in the morning and i was tired so i sat and lissened to it next thing i know, i was puting my head on my desk and taking a nap.
i must have been reading BCB all day cause i was dreaming about it (lol) and… i’ll say this quick cause it was random:
i was Paulo, on a skateboard jumping down a waterfall.
Then just as i was about to hit the water, “i will not bow” by Breaking Benjamin came on and screamed “FALL!” and woke me up.
as soon as i woke up i yelled “The fuck was that?!?” luckly my parents did’t wake up.
and that was my most random dream i had that i can remember.

So last night, I dreamt that Taeshi and Suitcase unveiled a new product in the store: BCB-themed birthday cards.

I would buy those by the million.

I’m standing in a dark room with no floors, no ceiling, and no walls, but rather all around me is an impenetrable darkness, like the night sky devoid of stars. I begin walking forward, not feeling my footsteps beneath me, and as I do a path appears for me. As I follow it, I come upon myself standing still on a small circle of light, and ask him the nature of this place.
“It is dreams,” he says, “and all here requires your creation.” As he says this, he begins to change into something different, and I hold me head, desperately trying to will him to nonexistence. Turning, I run, hoping the darkness will unfold before me into reason, but I can not escape the place, and again I run into another man. For the second time it is myself, but now much older than I am now, holding a child cradled in one arm and a book of his own write in the other. Again I ask him where I am.
“This is imagination,” he says, “and all here require your care,” and for the second time a strange creature begins to emerge from the man’s skin. I run, fearing the man as much as I do the creature.
For the third time I approach myself, and I am an elderly man, garbed in a dark black suit with my hands firmly grasped in front of me atop a pillar of light. Around my older self I see the appearances of hundreds of thousands of faces, saddened, reaching with words to hold me aloft so that the pillar might never err. For the third time I ask myself what I am.
“Regret,” he says, opening his eyes in rage, “and it requires nothingness.” His body begins to familiarly contort as he lowers down, the pillar slowly diminishing in size as the people depart, but I do not flee. I stand fast, the vicious creature lowering closer and close to myself, and I stare at it hard, knowing I may not flee, but hoping it might leave of it’s own volition. Suddenly, in a single instant, it appears as if my eyes were playing trick upon myself, and it no longer appears to be a monster of darkness and fright, but rather an old man in a shinning white robe, his face beaming with warmth and lighting the darkness. He takes my hand and lifts me into his arms, cradling me as I begin to feel myself tire. As all around me begins to fade, I silently ask the man who he is, and he softly whispers a single word that melts me away into the ever softening.
“Time.”
——-
I had this on my computer and I never did anything with it because I kept wanting to turn it into a poem, but reading it now I’m like, “Screw that, this is fine, I make good decisions at 1 AM *glug glug glug*.” So yea.

I was drunk when I said that, LaComi, but yes, I would like a hug. :|

Sex dreams. >_> <_<
Stupid hormones.

Had a dream a couple of days ago. I think it was a nightmare, I was puzzled more by how in the hell I managed to come up with it, even subconsiously:
I was taking a walk with two of my cousins, one boy, one girl, and my friend Rory. We were walking down the middle of a lane in a forest, talking about pretty much everything when my cousins and Rory gave each other this really creepy look. Imagine if your face slackened slightly, enough to make your top lip hit your chin, with a sly smile mixed in. While smiling they pulled out a remote control. On the count of three they pressed the button, and literally my entire torso, from my neck to my waist turned to sand. My legs had other plans and decided to just carry on walking with them, leaving my shouting head in a pile of sand. Then I woke up as they reached the horizon. There was probably flying as well.

It might not have helped that I woke up face-down on the floor.

I knew you were drunk Jerk, that’s why I offered the hug. *Hugs*