people wonder sometimes why i make such a big deal out of being unhappy, why i can't just suck it up and deal with it like everyone else. maybe i just remember my dreams too well (i don't mean "hopes," here, i'm referring to actual asleep at night dreams). like the one i woke up from this morning:
i got on a bus i didn't want to get on, to go some place i didn't feel like going. trudging through is useful much of the time, but i was having one of my "i need to step outside of this right now" days. i ignored the feeling, however, and kept on moving through my day.
almost as soon as the bus left the stop, it blew a tire. as the driver struggled to regain control, he aimed the bus off the road and toward a fence. but it hit the fence just a little too hard and started rolling backward, until it hit a shopping cart. the shopping cart got wedged under it in such a way as to cause it to tip over.
the whole time i'd been thinking some combination of "i should'nt've gotten on this bus" and "no it'll be okay. i had no way of knowing. and i 'm overreacting."
and as the bus fell onto its side and i was looking down at the glass that would break under me, thinking about the people who would land on me, wondeing if we were going to skid along the ground or if the gas tank would explode, all i could think was "if i die here, no-one will ever even know i didn't want to get on this bus. i could've been somewhere else right now.
and then my alarm woke me up to start the day. so, here i am. lunch break. coffee shop. writing about my dream.