blog of testiclese this is where the shit went down, but before you got here

I haven’t been sleeping too well lately. This may or may not be related to these crazy dreams I’m having. I think it’s a variation on a super-hero type of dream. I fly around the city, and catch people when they’re falling. Apparently, this city has a very high depression rate. Occasionally one of the people though, when they’re falling, grab on to one of my limbs, and just pull with everything they’ve got, eventually tearing off a limb. In the dream, it doesn’t seem so out of the ordinary, I just go on with one less leg, or arm, etc. Eventually, I’m just a floating body in a lake, except I’m the only one who can float, and there’s a million people in this lake, and they’re all trying to grab on to me. I start getting the “about to get crushed” feeling, and then I scream, and eventually wake up. Generally there’s a few seconds of screaming mixed in with gurgling as my limbless body gets pushed down into the water. I’ve taken to throwing back a couple sleep meds to see if it helps, but so far, no go; the dreams persist.

Let’s hope this gets out to you people. Spare the name calling, it’s not necessary, nor is it true. I’m a normal person the same as everyone else. I have no more expertise on living than anyone else. This being the case, I do have some truths that I’ve managed to decipher about existance, and the truth of living. Simply enough, the truth is that there isn’t any. We are all animals enclosed in our own worlds, and the only thing connecting us to anyone, or anything else, is ourselves. This occurred to me painlessly enough, while I was in my car, desperately trying to relate myself to music that someone else composed and created. It is basic enough in its essence; someone else has gone through the same or at least similar thing, and that can provide some sort of comfort to you. The truth is, this is all in your head. Music is simply noise in the void. Upon its creation, it is empty, and all it has is its own existence. Even as it is passing through your ears, into your skull, it still has no form, no meaning. Not until you parse out the tune, and the words, the melody, and relate it to your own life, does it gain any sort of meaning other than noise. This notion applies to everything else in life; nothing has meaning until you give it meaning. Other people, items you own, useless until you apply your feelings upon them.