My dreams are wondrous. My dreams are haunting.

Some might think it is a careless practice to while the time away, after all, I'm digging myself deeper into the rut that my heels first booted.  But I think it's a beautiful hazard. It's enchantingly dangerous, no? I wished people learnt to dream more- to experience the thrilling ride of allowing something so surreal take over. It may seem a little too intangible to grasp at the first, but it unravels a kaleidoscope of exciting escapades.

My dreams are multi-sensory, well, a few of them. I was on the move once when I came across a familiar scent which suddenly rushed over, and that scent was sniffed upon previously in a dream of mine. I was simply awe-stricken by that recognition.

But of course, not every dream is definitively breath-taking. Last night, I dreamt that it was first day of college, I bought a chocalate coated donut with powdered with ice frosting on my way to school, only to be greeted by a class of boys and girls who were huddled together in pairs or trios, minding their own business. On the right of the class was Universal Studios, and on the left a Rainforest bar. And I was wearing a wedding dress, I think. If I remember clearly, it was peach colored, with silver chains draped over my arms.

Many years ago, I dreamt I stabbed a prince with a fork at a dam with gushing waters. Soon after, the dam started to gushing with red-colored water- blood, you would guess.

My dreams are wondrous. My dreams are haunting.

For most, you're probably two weeks into your holidays and loving it. I'm barely five days into it and it's already tearing me apart. It's like I've gone two years without any sleep and all of a sudden, I'm forced to hibenate beneath a pile of sheets and knock off everything that I've encountered over those two h--, no, they weren't horrid at all. In fact, they were actually two of my best years, except that they could have been a lot better if not for... well, a few splinters that decided to hitch a ride, both literally (which hurts like crap whazzupp) and metaphorically. I can't imagine what life must be for the retirees-- Doing qi-gong every morning; playing Bingo or chinese chess with their fellow retirees every afternoon and watching their favourite channel 8 local drama series, or taking up line-dancing classes at the nearest community centre at night. If you've got a special liking for cats, maybe even wander around the estate to feed cats at some ungodly hour. But my point is, that the holidays are not as great as one would foresee, or foresaw it to be. So I've decided to get some work done/finished which I've flippantly tossed into the forsaken world of The Unfinished; Passe; Pasodoble( heh, gee, wth.). Whatever. And when I do uncover these unfinished work, I swear I'll take them through to the end. Or... if things don't turn our as plan, maybe there'll be The Unfinished (Part 2), yeeahhh. As of right now, I'll be indulging  myself in James Patterson's thriller novels and How-Ah-Met-Yuh-Mama. G'night.