infinitelykaty

It's almost September...
I had the most fucked up dream last night. Or...this morning. I don't know why I keep having these dreams where I have to watch myself get mutilated.
A few weeks ago I had a dream I was shot on an airplane. And I remember what it *felt* like. I remember the face of the guy who did it. I glanced back at him and thought "I'm not the one that gets killed in this type of situation." But the fucker pulled out a gun and shot me right then!
This morning I had a dream I was on a bus, and it was kind of like the movie Speed, except not, because I actually like the movie Speed.
Oh there's a revelation of a guilty pleasure. I fucking love the movie Speed! In fact, when I was twelve it was my favorite movie and I watched it at least three times a day for a month and had all the dialogue memorized.
Anyway, I was on a bus. I know it was Autumn, because it had that Autumn feel and look to everything. It was kind of cold. We're on the bus and we're flying through the air, like we just took that jump off the ramp. There used to be a bridge here, but they've torn it down, and the driver remarks that it was so old it would have collapsed under us anyway. We're trying to land on a section of road ahead of us, but it doesn't seem like we're going to make it because it's a tunnel and we have very little clearance on each side.
Somehow, we made it. Only the tunnel just lead us up a road that also ended abruptly. We're flying through the air again, and this time I'm thinking "We're all going to die." So I'm reconciling my death then, which is what you'll spend most of your life doing. I looked at the people riding the bus with me. There weren't too many, and we were all spaced out pretty far from each other in the seats. At the moment we hit the ground I was watching from outside the bus. Right into my window.
Just fucking...smashed. It landed wheels down, amazingly. I looked into the window and saw myself alive. I was cut up pretty badly, but I was alive. Only, my eyes were icy blue now. Like my eyes were dead, but I wasn't. I'll never forget what my eyes looked like then. It scared the hell out of me.
Eventually I had regained my own perspective in the dream. I looked around me again at the other passengers. Some others had survived, and had the same eyes. There were dead bodies slumped over in a few of the seats.
The driver. I walked up to check on him. He was a mess. Most of what had been the windshield had embedded itself in him. There was blood everywhere. Luckily, I couldn't see his face.

I don't even want to know what that dream means.

That's how my day started. A funny thing happened though. I was at the courthouse waiting to take the elevator down to the tax office (because it's such a rocking place!) and these two older men came up to me. One of them said, "Hi!" So I said, "Hello!" and then he said, "What are you doing here, are you skipping class young lady?" and I said, "...I'm 22." and then his friend said, "22?! No way, you don't look a day over 16!" and I said, "...Thanks!"
Then I got to listen to them in the elevator while they reminisced about what it was like to be 16.
Or even 22.