a dream I had about a girl at my door

I guess it was Day. At least that’s who it looked like; herself an Ella-Rae Smith look-alike. She’d just been to my place a short while earlier, she said she was coming back and there she was, wiggling the locked door knob with a melodramatic plea like a kid who’d been purposely locked out by a mischievous sibling.

If it were most other people, I wouldn’t want to be bothered, but, as cute as she is, she could visit basically any time she wanted. “Here I come,” I said thru the door, though, I thought to myself, I should’ve waited till I backed away from it. Not doing so made it obvious I had to prepare for her revisit.

I was wearing something I wanted to take off; a fancy (vanilla/orange) sherbet-colored shirt I’d never wear in real life. The thought of it reminds me of Seinfeld’s Puffy Shirt, though it wasn’t nearly as tacky or ostentatious. I put it, with perhaps another accessory or two, in what seemed like a bucket in the hall.

That hallway, unlike the shirt, was indeed ostentatious. It was actually a lit corridor of sorts that ran at least twenty or thirty feet and led to the bathroom much like you’d see at a movie theater. I don’t know if it was a house or an apartment I was living in, but it was quite elegant compared to my real-life dwellings.

Maybe that’s why she liked coming over, though my deliberate charm probably had more to do with it. She was nice too, but her looks were all I really cared about. If our friendship involved sex or romance, and as much as I’d like to think she was coming back for the former, it wasn’t evident in this short dream.

I knew she’d probably see what I was trying to hide if she went to the bathroom, but I didn’t really care enough to look for a better hiding spot. Besides she was there at the door, waiting for me to let her in. The longer I took, the more obvious it would be that I’m doing something I didn’t want her to see.

2024 [ May 18 ]

Mariah The Scientist’s physical appearance

Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance Mariah The Scientist's physical appearance

With so many males pretending to be females, spotting what seems like a beautiful college girl in heavy makeup is cause for pause, especially when her lips are under a five-o’clock shadow. Scientific research suggests Mariah is, however, a real woman who, like most in the public spotlight, simply tries to fake perfection with cosmetics.

She’s naturally cute though with chipmunk cheeks that show dimples when she smiles. Her skin tone is light enough. Her body is basically flawless, at least on the outside. I’d like for her to sit on my face so I could study her inner anatomy. A taste test would be needed for chemical confirmation. Nothing sexual; strictly Science.

my rating : 5 of 5


a dream I had about being late for work

I should’ve known something wasn’t right; something, that is, other than the fact that I was late for work. Technically I wasn’t, but I was scheduled to start my shift in about ten minutes, my drive would take about that long if I drove recklessly, and I wasn’t even close to being ready to leave the house; a house I haven’t lived in for almost twenty years. Never mind the fact that I haven’t worked there in nearly five.

Nonetheless there I was, in a partly self-induced panic. I say “partly self-induced” not because it was my fault I was going to be late, even though it sort of was because I’d simply lost track of time, but because I wasn’t going to be in any real trouble for calling in late, showing up late without calling in or even being absent for the day. It just would’ve been the first such mark on my excellent attendance record.

Not showing up for the day without calling would’ve been a big deal; they refer to that as a No Call No Show; but even that worse-case scenario wouldn’t have gotten me fired or anything like that. Besides all I had to do was call and say I couldn’t come in or say I was going to be late or just show-up late. I took pride in my near-perfect punctuality though; this is also true in real life; and didn’t want to ruin it.

I could’ve ran out of the house right then, drove fast and probably made it on time, but there was no way I was going to show up for work, around all those people; fine girls included; without at least washing my face, which wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t just shaved. A full-on shower was out of the question; forget brushing my teeth; but I also wanted to wash under my arms if at possible. I simply had no time.

That is until I noticed, in what if I were a believer would’ve been an act of God, I’d gotten the time wrong. In my haste, I thought I had to be to work in about ten minutes, but another glance at the clock confirmed it was actually still 1-something, meaning I had more time than I thought. That instantly put me in manic rush mode as I rushed about, trying to cover as many of the hygienic/beauty essentials as possible.

It wasn’t until I woke up, heart still pounding and breathing heavy, that I realized it was all a dream. I was happy, or at least quite relieved, not to have to go to work today… to a job I haven’t worked in nearly five years. The house I miss though, perhaps dearly so, if only because it holds some of my most cherished childhood memories. The nostalgia is strong, but at least I get to visit it in these crazy dreams.

2024 [ April 20 ]