*i died, 5 times. 2001-05-08 8:35 a.m.*

happy international tell everyone you know about diaryland day!

oh, the cramps.

i'm up actually early enough before my 9 o'clock class to have taken a shower and now to write for a short while. which is odd because it took me forever to fall asleep. i had tracy chapman on the cd player and i ended up staying awake through it and it wasn't until the cd ended when i said, "okay, muscles relax." i didn't even notice it but i was really really tense.

the reason for the entry is the dream i had. it was some sort of holiday that we normally celebrate, but it was to commemorate people who died in something or other. we were all in some warehouse celebrating, and i was talking to someone about the meaning of the event. it was getting closer and closer to "the time," and i was talking about how i couldn't imagine what it would be like to die like that (i think i was talking to eht). suddenly it was the actual event we were commemorating, and i was being shot. by a machine gun. over and over again. it didn't hurt, because i wasn't dying and they saw that, so i was being shot faster, and suddenly i just felt it. my throat closed up, i couldn't breathe much, my mouth was dry and tasted like blood, i got weaker and weaker, and felt like i was losing myself. which is when i woke up. at like 4.

*listening to: *
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