nausicaa83 | "Into a place where thoughts can bloom, into a room where it's nine in the afternoon."

News from therapy, I need to start a dream journal! My therapy journal was abandoned, because I felt like it was just me re-writing my livejournal entries on paper, and I didn't feel motivated enough. But my therapist insists that dreams are very important, and I always forget them five minutes after I wake up. I'm going to put my journal and a pen on the nightstand, so that as soon as I wake up I can write down what I dreamt about, and then have tea. Sounds like a plan. I do hope my subconscious doesn't decide to embarass me, by going into a zombie marathon like it did a few months back. Night after night of zombie apocalypse dreams. Very annoying.

Today we finally had some fresh winds, and it felt like summer used to be 15 years ago, so I spent the morning ironing, because I had a pile of laundry that was turning into a Tower of Pisa in my bedroom. All the while I listened to my Cabin Pressure cds, so even if it took me almost two hours to iron it all, time flew by on silver wings. :D

I'm in a Cowboy Bebop mood lately. Making icons, listening to the soundtrack, I might do a marathon later on, it's been a while since the last one. ^^

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(ok, rifiuto di fare la pigra, e rispondo nella lingua appropriata)

I got many great fanvid ideas in dreams, now that I think about it. That's an entire realm of possibilities waiting for me. *______*

A few months ago I had week after week of dreams of zombies, and my therapist think they're related to all the deaths in my family, plus the fact that they're creatures that are meant to be dead, but are obliged to still wander around looking alive, that it is a hammer-in-the-head metaphor for a comatose patient. My subconscious is so subtle. Anyway she says it's a good thing, that my brain keeps elaborating the pain through images I can understand. That's good, although after a while it got a bit annoying.

I had a most wonderful dream concerning Sherlock months ago, it was one of those real dreams, the ones where you're truly convinced it's real life. We were trapped in a hotel in the mountains, and a snowstorm came, some tourist got killed, and Sherlock started investigating, while John and I looked around for evidence. Years of Miss Marple finally paying off! It took me a while when I woke up to realize it was just a dream, it was just like waking up from an inception. Absolutely awesome. *______________*

"Into a place where thoughts can bloom, into a room where it's nine in the afternoon."

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