I have an awful lot of intense nightmares.

I've had four about my dad trying to kill me.

I'm not quite sure what that says about my view of our relationship.

I'm very much a person that believes in the truth and relevance of dreams and nightmares. I like to take other people's dreams and analyze them to see what they mean.

I had a dream that I almost had sex with Andrew Volpe but told him I couldn't 'cause I had a boyfriend. Andrew Volpe is the lead singer of a band I used to worship, and he's really hot, to me. Basically.

Here's a dream I had the other night that I can't get out of my head:


I was in a college at some fancy function. The scenery was red, gold, brown and black. I was walking aimlessly, and everyone was dressed nicely.

A girl sat on the red-carpeted stairs. She wore all black clothes, and they were mostly tattered and ripped. There was a tall, gold sign next to her that read, "Please leave her alone. Thank you." She was covered in blood. As I approached the stairs, her ovaries/vagina just started pouring more blood onto the stairs. Not just "she needs a pad." Like "she needs to go to a hospital because she's just been stabbed," except no one had stabbed her.

I was tempted to obey the sign, but she started shaking and she sighed, muttering to herself about how "it's starting again" and she needed napkins or something. I found towels and gave them to her, offering to take her to the hospital.

She grinned in embarrassment, and it was probably the most beautiful smile in the dream world. She nodded and stood, taking my hand after cleaning off her own and saying, "Thank you so much. Everyone just kept walking past and I didn't know why."

I had her arm over my shoulders to help her stand, but on the way out we kept running into people that wanted to just stop and talk to me. They seemed completely unfazed that I was assisting a girl covered in blood. I ended up ignoring them and carrying her to my car.

Upon starting the engine and pulling out of my parking spot, I realized I didn't know how to get out of the parking lot. I looked up and saw my dad's Mustang, then I looked to the girl and said, "That's my dad. We'll follow him. He knows the way." And with that, we followed him out of the parking lot over one ridiculously steep hill.


If that isn't one string of metaphors, I don't know what is.

I don't know what it means, though.

I showed Cristin my blog today and she wanted to subscribe to it.

Somehow I doubt she'll ever read it again.