I dreamed of a strange world... this world, just a bit... corrupted. Talking bears. Things living in the sand, that sucked you down. They were called Eluni, and they were never seen... they just waited. Oceans where the tide rose so high, and fell so low, that continents were exposed and covered in turn.

An Inquisition, not by the church but by the government... the churches, ALL of them, all the different religions, had finally gotten tolerant and were working together to fight the hate and suspicion that the government fostered.

A strange tower, all faded greens and soot black, with curves and arches. It made my eyes hurt to look at it, but it was beautiful in its own way. Deadly, too.

I dreamed this in the hours between dawn and noon... it filled my mind.

Which is good, because before then my dreams had been of real people and real places. Those are the nightmares I hate. The ones that aren't irrational, aren't based on some horror flick or set in a fantasy world... the ones that are so real that when I wake up it takes me a long time to convince myself that it was just a dream.

I dreamed about cages... but not filled with willing pets. Empty, except for dying women... and myself...

...but I don't want to talk about that dream.

I just want to forget about it. Forget about the faces of people I care about parading past and mocking the fact that I was trapped and dying. Forget about how much it hurt to hear one of them tell me that he was responsible for it, and that he was glad I was broken.

*shivers*

Guilt? Confusion? I have no idea why the dreams come. I have no idea why I dreamed of meeting someone for the first time, someone I've talked to, someone I care about... meeting him, and feeling the weight and the hateful burn as the drug he'd slipped into a drink took effect.

"Glory Box" is playing again...

...and echoes of "This Love" are flitting through my mind...

...I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. Worry, some of it. Worry about my boys, my friends, the people I care about... worry for myself; today I go to see a new doctor and hopefully this one will be able to help, to cure what no one else seems to be able to. Worry, mostly, about the silly things. I worry about keeping control. About being hurt.

Just... give me a reason to love you... give me a reason to be... a woman...

...and I know what that reason is, what it always is, for me. My collar around someone else's throat. My will taking control. Then I feel safe, then I can stand being equals, then I feel brave enough that love no longer terrifies me.

*sighs*

I am one fucked-up femme.

I'd say 'at least I know I'm fucked up', but really, if you KNOW you're nuts, and you don't do anything to change it, how are you any better than someone who doesn't know? Because you see I DON'T try to change. I don't try to grow past this, other than rarely... and every damn time I have tried, I've gotten burnt for my pains, the fires that I keep trying to tell myself don't exist end up frying me.

I don't trust people, because people have, in my experience, proven consistantly untrustworthy. I trust friends to some extent. I trust my pets. My slaves. My boys.

I trust them completely, because they've earned it. Because I know I am safe, with them.

Another Portishead song - "Wandering Star". Damned good song. Reminds me of Alex... Al-X, rather. *shrugs*

's a good thing to be reminded of.

I have no idea where I was going with this rambling... it just kind of appeared in my head, and I am trying quite hard to force it out into harmless text, rather than lurking thoughts. However, I seem to be making a complete botch of it, so I think I'll stop.

Wish me luck - my mother will be driving me to the doctors today, and I'll have to be polite and civil and all. *shudders* I dread it.