Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

Ysterday I told at least two people that sometimes you have to make others aware of your wants and needs, your perspective in order for them to understand what role they should take... in order for them to relate and agree... because they probably would...
But i seem to have trouble following my own advice...

my mom called and woke me up actually... which is sad cuz its like 2:15 but thats sort of nice.... i have been hitting snooze since about 10:00.... then finally decided to just stop the alarm all together and wake when i wake... my mom called... i was out of it.. she brought up thanksgiving, and shared her side... wanted to know what she could do to make it better... i left her hanging on the phone... i dont know why.. i just didnt want to talk about it.

Nothing dramatic happened on thanksgiving, though from my point of view i was acting pretty dramatic...

becky wrote an e mail and said she didnt know what i meant when i said i was a little off my head... nothing dramatic happened during break, though from my point of view i was acting pretty dramatic...

I guess I forget that I am good at staying calm on the outside.
In Europe I would often tell people I was really anxious or uncomfortable (this is when i was 18) and they would say "but you were the calmest person there... you seemed mature and wise... you seemed like a 25 year old" and it amazed me...
now im fairly used to that shit, because i am almost 25 and im not very energetic all the time... but its funny to me that people don't understand what is going through my head when im a case.

I just had the weirdest set of dreams.
at first it was like a video game... and so the deaths and things werent really all that frightening... later it became an epic quest... the future... a water world of some kind, and I had been sent from the past... or woken up there... and people were trying to lead me to some book (the term "people" is a little loose... these were like sea monster-tentacle things) it was like a movie, an epic movie...
later we were in a car... there was some sort of mother-father figure... and then a number of us in a packed station wagon... something relating to my childhood, with a hint of fantasy... the movie i had become part of... I ate the chicken mcnuggets... they were alive and didnt deserve that. They blamed it on the father... who later robbed the walmart with the mother while the rest of us sat in the car..
the little girl had her period, she seemed too young, and when i talked to her older sisters they said they would make sure she was alright, and I told the middle one I loved her, and I meant it, and i wasnt sure whether it was a sad or joyous occasion.
the mother got shot, so did the eldest daughter, the father had shot several people... who looked oppressed rather than hurt, as if this had happened so many times that they just accepted the death, and each new rebellion when put down... became a sort of cue that things would never change... despair not dramatic, resigning to despair...
the mother was unstable, rather than removing the bullet from her daughter she locked her away in a separate compartment... for some reason i was in there, but i had to find a way to break the glass before the water rose to kill us. When we were free I had to chain the mother, she was beautiful... she was young she looked like the middle daughter... she was not the older heavier set woman of before.
She had that look in her eye of dangerous seduction. her hands were tied, a chain around her neck, and she was trying to seduce me, and i wasnt capable of turning her down, and i hated her for it... i hated her for being violent to her daughters, for her secret desires to kill me, her intentions... so out of her control... i hated that she couldnt control it... like passively she watched as she destroyed everything around her, but she was still beautiful... and i wanted to kiss her, and slap her.. and I did.
she kept trying to stab me with whatever she could get a hold of... i became the object of both her hatred and desire... and it was scary, but it felt the most like life to me... the closest I had ever been to really living, with this dangerous animal goddess on a leash in a small car, her daughters freightened in the corner pleading not to let her loose... and then we got to the facility, and she became a small child again, dancing and picking flowers and talking about breakfast and simple beauty... and she was so innocent, that I kept my distance, we read in the paper, of the destruction of the fair city, all her doing... and we were sort of proud to have been there.. sort of excited by the adventure we had had... and now she was safe... and I came to the conclusion that I make people who are not stable more unstable... and should avoid them at all cost... and it made me cry or want to cry... because it meant denying ever having that feeling of truly living again. and where else could I find that passionate love?



And you deny I'm a case...