fuckin weird

I’ve had the weirdest dreams lately:

The first was that I moved to a boarding school with some people in my year that I don’t really know :p Then Abby came to visit me and I joined Helena’s history class.
Interpretation: Definitely worrying about school. 

The dream I’ve just had is definitely disturbing: I was somehow reborn into another person and my mum kept forcing me to go to the pool to swim. And every time I answered one of her questions correctly, she would let an old man ink a tattoo on my arms. Most of the tattoos were of a childish nature, sweet like a baby dragon and little kids having a picnic. However, the man only outlined them and turned his attention towards a great phoenix that he had inked on the underside of my right arm. He coloured the head purple and dark blue, and extended those colours to intertwine with rashes of gold and deep orange. I hated it immediately and told him that I would have it removed, then turned to my mother and asked her why she was doing this to me. When I was old, I imagined, I would not like this sort of art on my arms. My mother only smiled and took me to a large cabinet that occupied a large part of the wall, from the ceiling to the ground. On each shelf lay glass containers of chocolate of all kinds. My mother invited me to try a thin disc of dark chocolate, which I reluctantly took from her hand, for all of my life I have preferred the sweeter things. I let the chocolate rest on my tongue to dissolve of its own accord, not willing to bite into it and expose its bitter taste immediately, but when it crumbled I was shocked for I had never experienced such an odd pleasure from tasting this heavy and darkly sweet thing. I did not have long to enjoy it however, as my mother had placed a thin disc of light brown on my hand, which I knew was milk chocolate for its complexion. I was trepidant however, for if my palate had changed to be pleased by what I have disliked before, then how then would it react to something that had given me pleasure? And to my displeasure, I found the milk chocolate cloying and far too sweet for my tastes, coating itself in a thick layer on my tongue. I scraped it against my teeth to remove it and its offensive sweetness. I asked my mother why I felt this way, and she only smiled and told me that now everything was now different. It is odd because I have never liked chocolate very much, but I found myself disorientated, as if my whole world had shifted on its axis, when I discovered that I preferred dark chocolate over its counterpart. How strange it is that such a sweet can evoke such feelings of helplessness even in sleep.

 

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