deram

so here's another dream. perhaps the scariest one i've had in my entire life:
so for a logn while I'm chilling with the Wilcox family, and their older son who seems to be some kind of hybrid between my cousin BJ and Mitch Jones from the La Dehesa ward. We do something with some very spiffy looking folders at the Pres' work and later in the evening i get a ride home. We are in a small 5 passenger car. whit's at the wheel and i'm in the passenger seat. jenna is in the seat behind me and my mom is behind whitney. strange enough - and we know how these things seem to fit into dreams - my mom and jenna where standing at their seats instead of sitting cause they were crocheting. Well i can't remember why but whitney had to do something so she had me steer while she was busy doing something. she got pretty caught up in it so i would say brake or stop whenever needed. the picture is still pretty clear in my mind when we were driving down some road, speeding under the streetlights. it was pouring rain by this time and there were hardly any other cars out. whitney was getting really caught up in whatever she was doing. so when i would say brakes she wouldn't really notice. eventually when the car got going pretty fast i was barely in control. the car started going up on the curve and sometimes on the sidewalk. i remember when we got to the rotonda i was getting worried. after screaming out "BRAKES" several times i decided we needed to stop. so i started saying "stop the car! stop the car!" i was sure something would go wrong. but whitney was really focused on whatever it was she was doing. after speeding down a few more blocks i could see the bridge over the river coming up. as i tried to steer from the passenger seat i saw us heading off the road right before the bridge. at this moment i knew that if we didn't get the car doors open before we drove into the river that we'd be dead for sure. so i called out "open your doors! open your doors" well fortunately whitney started braking and we managed to stop on the side of the road about half way over the bridge. well as mentioned before the rain was really coming down hard, and the streets were flooding with water. through my passenger window i could see the water rushing by along the gutter. it was probably 1 or 2 feet deep. Well after this little adventure jenna stepped out of the car. she took a few steps but soon enough the current from the rain water pulled her feet from under her. she was quickly swept with her hands flailing back behind the car. then a car came from behind us with its headlights on. it slowed down but eventually the current took jenna right under its front right wheel and then the back right wheel. i'm sure jenna would've been alright except for her choice of clothing. the second wheel caught on jenna skirt pulling it tight around her abdomen. her arms once again flailing and she gasped for air. jenna died.

nothingness

ever just stared off into space? sometimes the ignorant stranger may look and suspect a profound moment of thought and whatnot. well the truth is its not. its the most pathetic pass time in all of ones life - not living at all. not thinking or listening, or even noticing a screaming customer or a beeping register. you're just there. who knows if your eyes are opened or closed, if you're standing or sitting. none of it really matters, only that you are - at that point - nothingness. though some people see this as a beautifully simple blank slate, allowing the awesomesness of the universe seep through every pore of man, i see this as the downfall of man. imagine this whole text. imagine this whole page blank. nothing there. i'm not talking about the potential in a writers work or in a composers masterpiece. i'm talking about the lack of work in such. if this page were blank it would be because i didn't think this or I thought it and let it pass into the nothingness. i returned to my 'awesome blank slate'. this is the amazing power of silence - of nothing. An absolute lack of movement, of color, or contrast and unity. Powerless to move someone, it doesn't inspire or influence. if anything it shows how little we are living. how many empty wholes exist in our reality. a blank pages only symbolizes what was not. what could have been but (for some ridiculously lazy and pathetic reason) was not.