I feel like writing, but at the same time it almost hurts to type. It's about 8:20, I just got inside for a chance to relax. Well, sort of relax . . . I've still got a little homework (like I said, I'm pretty productive in class so I never get much 'homework', and if I do it's the teacher being a dictator). Let me tell you what my day's been like. 6:09.10 is around when I woke up. I haven't been sleeping well lately. Familiar with the term "nightmare"? Horrifying . . . gruesome, bloody nightmares . . . I've had so many lately. They're really bizarre, but at the same time they make so much analytical sense it's ridiculous. Most of my dreams revolve around the "good and bad sides" of man. Then again, who's to say what's bad. Honestly, I'm not a superstitious person. I can walk under ladders, burn candles and ask ghosts to show themselves and all, but it doesn't really bother me. Speaking of ghosts, to let everyone here know . . . I've encountered two. Only one of which I've "seen" with my eyes - I've found 'ghosts' or wandering spirits as one may call them are fairly passive. They're not really interested in humans typically . . . I ran into one that was interested in my affairs, well, more just looking out for me, but that's an entirely different story that I'll share with you at some other point when I'm talking to just one of you. It's a lot harder to tell a specific story to a large number of people and still make it really interesting. But as I was saying . . . nightmares . . . lately I've had real-time, horrifying dreams. So current that in my dreams I'll be wearing my one black-leather glove on my left hand, and my beautiful wire-wrap necklace. Sometimes I'm even wearing my "night clothes" (just my boxers) or something. Last night's dream was kind of spooky, because it has been a reoccurring nightmare for the last two nights . . . a sequel . . . I didn't think I'd mention it because it bothered me the first night, but it's bothering me even more right now, so I want to talk about it.

Slowly, my father, mother, and I pull into the church. I take out the church keys (it happens to be the church I clean / work for) and the door creaks as it opens. I walk inside and turn the light on, and go about my usual routine, cleaning all the rooms. The lights in back are already on. The only difference in the back of the church was that it split off to two separate rooms in the sanctuary - that and the walls were made of tall, dark, stained glass running up to a peak at the roof. Vacuuming peacefully, the character that was meant as myself accidentally unplugs the cord, and ventures off to the supply shed to re-plug it in. As I enter it, I see a large poster/gift wrap roll protruding from the wall. I pick it up. I see a switch. I pull it. I venture into a dark, dank hallway, a replica of what the actual structure of the "light" side of the church is, except here . . . things are different. There's a presence of another world, I can feel it in my heart. I slink along the wall, feeling almost wounded by the thick air, and slide into a room on the left. It's got a long, iron spring bed and boxes and boxes full of tortured dolls. Picture innocence shattered, something totally helpless being destroyed. The dolls bled like humans. I staggered back across the hall and turned into the main door, afraid of what lied around me, but at the same time, I understood lucidly. I was afraid, but I was bold. I moved forward. This room was so dark, so damp . . . a few candles lie around . . . a large stone sarcophagus with ancient symbols in a forgotten language. I hear a fiendish gurgle, and decide I'd better get the hell out of there. I can see the light at the end of the hallway, so I walk slowly forward, making haste. Out of the side of my eye, I see a blur move along the scenery. I move faster. A ghoulish hand streaks in my vision and I'm paralyzed with the numbing touch of pure evil. Helpless . . . I see my parents in the light, I want to join them, but the hand holds me back. I kick it. It lets go. I look it in the face. The alarm goes off. It's 6:09.10. To be continued . . .

So, the day starts. I don't really feel like summarizing the mundane of school, but might as well. The morning was a computer-frustration with the cabin from hell in architectural Auto-CAD drafting. Oh well, supposedly when I finish I'm employable in Sonoma County, so whoo hoo! Spanish was fun, but we had a lot of work to do - especially listening and stuff, and that gets old. I did my homework in class - go productivity. Fifth was my Algebra II Trigonometry test from doom . . . I'll let you guys know how I did, my guess is I missed 4 of the 26, leaving me at around a B+ / A- range. I hope . . . hope . . . hope . . . It was a fairly hard test. Well, some parts were easy enough! =]. Last period of the day, chemistry, we did some really awesome experiments about the conductivity of different materials (how well electricity runs thrush them).

Well, the day was "over", but it wasn't "over". Even though it was 3:00, I still had to drive into town so I could see the dermatologist. So, my Dad drove to campus and picked me up, and I drove us to town and got checked out. So . . . It's foliculitis all right. Genetic acne foliculitis. Three more years of treatment. It really sucks, but it's not that bad really. I'm going o have to use some sort of weird foo-foo soapy stuff and it makes it disappear like magic after a month, so, yeah, wish me luck please. Supposedly when I turn 18 it all vanishes like it never existed. You know what though, my doctor doesn't know a thing about what he's talking about when it comes to that. I could have predicted this without his damned help. My theory is that being a teenager, something with the density of my blood when I sweat caused my pores to inflame or something, and he regurgitated what I told him and made it sound "doctor" like and of course regurgitated it again to my parents. Blah - people who get paid too much . . .

Finally, I left that long, tense, waiting period of the office that smelled like old people and Vick's Nasal Drops, and drove back out of town to go pick up my new perscription foo-foo soap. Saw a few friends in town, so I visited while my prescription was being filled (supposedly takes 15 minutes, took around 30 . . .), and had a jolly time. Drove home, just to have more work to do. I signed online and was about to relax, when I found out my Dad needed help pouring/shoveling concrete. Keep in mind that I'd left school at 3:00. It was about 6:00 now. We worked hard until about 8:15, then I came in and took a shower while he cleaned up (very nice of him, I love my parents . . . both of em, Mom and Dad, they're so awesome, even though they're super annoying sometimes.) So finally, we had dinner at around 8:30ish. (Even though this entry started at 8:20 I stopped for dinner half-way in between)

So . . . here I am, tired, and wanting to go to bed, which is exactly what I'm about to do.

Good night friends.