Another night of unusual dreams. Or perhaps unusual in that I remembered several of them. And all of a theme.
I was in my teens, hanging out with a friend of mine (Nice seeing you again, Mark. RIP) at his house, trying to dodge his mother when she came home from work all irritable.
At a large impromptu sleep over at Jack’s house following some kind of poly gathering, trying to clean up a little and make room for bed rolls to laid out, without waking up the entire household.
A long lazy morning at someone’s house, lounging about with two girls (Michelle and… who knows) flirting shamelessly, and getting shot down.
Several guys drinking excessively at the beach after a long day of being hammered by the waves, bullshitting about previous weekends, discussing who should call our pal’s parents to tell them he died, and making plans for when we would get there next weekend.
Some really dreadful topics in there, but I don’t remember any of it being anxiety dreams or particularly anxious. Most peculiar. Should I blame it on the NyQuil?
I think of Mark a lot these days, and I miss him. Every now and then, I’ll read something snarky yet insightful, and I’ll remember that “chuckle & shrug” he’d give. I think he’d be Wil Wheaton’s soul mate, odd as that may sound. 🙂
I have a hard time picturing where Mark would be these days. Back then, he had such a powerful need to be acknowledged for his (often amazing) abilities. Would he have achieved that? And would it have made him happy? Or would the lack of it have made him bitter and dissatisfied? Or would he have grown past that, and found satisfaction and happiness in his life? I really don’t know; I could imagine any of the above happening.
All I know is it’s a damn shame we never got to find out. 🙁
Drinking excessively at the beach, bullshitting, flirting shamelessly, and getting shot down…
were you dreaming about my early college days?