what the fuck was that dream all about?
between the fun times last night and then my crazy crazy dreams,
i'm so fucking whacked.

first off,
last night was fucking sweet!
i love having stupid fun,
i wish i did it more often.
an impossibility due to lack of funds,
but were the resources available,
i would do that shit every night.

and secondly,
that fucked up dream.
it was long too,
like i started dreaming as soon as i fell asleep,
and the the dream didn't end till i woke up,
it was nutty.

so the setting was some sort of college dorm house.
it started in my room,
which was less decorated than others,
and then moved out into the hallway on my floor,
i think i was on the third floor for some reason.

the first event that i can remember has something to do with tattoos on my fingers.
i was apparently going to give this kid some kinds of tattoos on his fingers and he showed me what he wanted by doing it to me.
i told him not to because i didn't want those tattoos on my fingers,
to which he replied by assuring me that they would come off.
i talked to a doctor who happened to be standing there,
he said that they wouldn't so i was kinda pissed i think.
anyways, then there was fighting down the hall so i went to see what was up.
then, it somehow turned into a lot of guys just shouting shit at each other and i got involved.
everybody was shouting,
i was shouting too.
then this black kid,
who i conjured up in my head and named rider or ridell or something like that,
said something that set me off so we started fighting.
i tackled him down and was punching him but i wasn't doing as much damage as i wanted to so i grabbed him by the throat and started punching with heavy fists.
i just kept punching,
even when i knew he'd had enough and if i did anymore something really bad would happen,
i just closed my eyes and punched harder.
finally i got up and walked to my room at the other end of the hallway and got changed,
this is when the anxiety and stuff started because i didn't know whether the kid was dead or not.
i could hear the news trucks and stuff out front making a big deal out of the whole thing and then i realized that i'd killed him,
but when i walked around the dorm into and out of classes,
no one said anything to me,
almost like they didn't know it was me who did it,
or maybe they were just ignoring it.
so i kept trying to kinda hide what i did.
then i got outside into the courtyard and some girl called me something to let everyone know that it was me and other people started saying it.
then i got pissed and said something to the effect of,
"yea, i killed the fucking kid, and if you're not careful maybe i'll kill you too! maybe i'll kill all of you motherfuckers!"
as i was saying it, i was thinking about how fucked up this was and how i didn't mean to kill him and how i just wanted to leave.
but then, after i said it, a bunch of guys wanted to fight me.
so i turned around and they were deciding who would fight me first.
they found some kind of order and then i started fighting them.
one by one i just kept kicking their asses until the fourth or fifth guy,
then i woke up.

fucked up?
yes, very.
who dreams of shit like that?
it's times like these when i think to myself:
maybe i need some sort of professional help.
other people don't have these sorts of crazy dreams,
at least i don't think they do.
but what would talking to some psychiatrist really do anyways?
they just want to prescribe you medication,
i don't think i need that,
i just need some sort of social change to make me more normal.
ha ha, well that's pretty selfish.
maybe i just want answers to me.
i think i like that idea better,
i just want to know why i think and act the way i do...