Last night

I had a dream last night.

We all dream. We might not remember, but we all do; that’s how our minds sort shit out in there. That’s how you deal with your boss being an ass, the scary movie you just watched or just the general crap happening in your life. For exemple, I have a reoccurring dream with dirty toilets: that’s not even funny, that’s freaking gross, seriously. Well, the web says that dirty toilets = you need to put some order in your life. Take the hint Ange.

Last night I dreamt. It was not about dirty toilets, no, it was about KRISTEN STEWART. She was playing with my nerves, my heart and my hormones. She was playing with me and I was just hooked like I had never been before.

Now, let’s just put things in context; I have always had a crush on her; first with the famous saga (that I won’t even bother naming) and then with the movie The Runaways. Kristen as Joan Jett was just a dream. But again, let’s put things in context; I am 33 years old, currently working at a multinational company, studying for a Bachelor in Psychology, and you would might think that it would make me a grown ass woman who can make out a dream from reality, and yet this dream haunts me.

Truth is, I find her extremely attractive, but I also think she is an asshole; somehow she reminds me of myself and she also is a reminder that I will always be attracted by the biggest dickhead in the crowd. I have a radar. I have a gaydar, for woman dickheads. Something like that anyway.

Truth is, we are in the middle (oh gosh, closer to the end I hope) of a freaking pandemic and I have no one to talk to about that dream, about my dirty toilets or my spooky thoughts. I have no one to tell about Kristen Stewart breaking my heart and me asking for more, and I have no one to “remake the world” with. So I did what I know best and I grab my entangled mind, my laptop and let the words flow as they went.

Truth is, we are all a bit alone in this giant world and it hurts more today than it did yesterday. It will probably hurt a little bit more tomorrow, so I will keep on writing and keep on hoping that somewhere, out there, maybe someone also dreams of dirty toilet, Kristen… Someone out there gets a little bit of what I just bled on here.