A bad dream

When I wake up from a bad dream my cat are always laying there sleeping peacefully. And I think: “I’m supposed to be the human with the large brain, but in a lot of ways those cats are smarter than me.”

Wake up from a terrible dream. I’m over at a friend’s apartment late at night, and we’re doing lines of cocaine and drinking hard liquor and having an enjoyable time. When he tells me in this confessional voice: “There’s something I should probably tell you. You know all those boxes of your stuff you’ve been storing at my place? Well the other night somebody broke into the building and stole some of your stuff.”

“Oh no,” I said. “What did they take? Is this going to upset me?” I want to prepare myself for the worst because I store all of my valuables there.

“Yes it’s pretty bad,” he warns me.

“Well what did they take?”

He mumbled something but I can’t make out what he’s saying.

“What?” I said.

But he keeps mumbling and whispering like he can’t face telling me the bad news.

“WHAT??!!” I shouted, getting more frustrated and angry and alarmed by his inability to communicate.

“WHAT DID THEY TAKE!!!!!!” I screamed.

“They took your textbooks,” he said.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY TOOK MY TEXTBOOKS??? I DONT HAVE ANY TEXTBOOKS!!!”

But he refuses to elaborate.

So it keeps going back and forth like this. Me trying to find out what I lost. And him — for whatever reason — refusing to tell me. This failure to communicate.

I’m so angry and frustrated, I’m on the verge of grabbing him and shaking him to try and get the truth out of him.

Finally he says: “I’m not going to take any more of your abuse,” and storms out of his place and down the road.

So now I’m standing there alone in his apartment. Not sure what to do. Finally I pack up my stuff and leave.

But as I’m walking down the street I realize I’ve accidentally taken some of his stuff. So I go back to his place.. He’s back inside his apartment, I can hear him in there loudly carrying on, he’s drunk and shouting, like he’s partying wildly. When he sees me he shouts “YOU AGAIN!! GO AWAY!!”

“I came back to return your stuff,” I said. He’s in there with a beautiful petite young Asian woman who he’s partying with, doing more coke and drinking. And he’s way drunk, speaking very loudly, almost out of control, which is uncharacteristic for him — he’s usually very mild-mannered..

“I apologize for getting upset with you earlier,” I said. My friend is a nice guy so I feel bad about being abusive. I leave his stuff by the door and walk off.

And then it starts raining as I’m walking. “THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE,” I say to myself. “HOW CAN IT BE RAINING IN AUGUST???” I start crying. It’s like everything in my life is just set up to go against me. And there’s nothing I can do except be punished over and over.

This dog is walking alongside me, looking at me with compassion. These big, brown doe eyes. He starts rubbing against my legs and nestling against me. I hold him in my arms and start petting him. And then I wake up

Sheesh.

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