Friday, August 30, 2002

Last night, right before I fell asleep, me and the boyfriend started talking about September 11, and how the anniversary is coming up. I started remembering how I was being abused by my (now ex)boyfriend at that point -- I always connect the terrorist attack with my own private terrorist -- and it was getting pretty flashbacky.

But then we moved on to more pleasant topics. Such as how I was going to force the (now current) boyfriend to visit me in upstate NY when I move up there to finish my Ph.D. in English. Drugging, Kidnapping, Bribing, were all explored. In, of course, totally non-threatening ways.

So then I fell asleep and I dreamt that I was living in a homeless shelter for teenage girls in California. All the girls felt compelled to prostitute themselves in the most dangerous areas. Then the girls ended up being stabbed and sent to the hospital. Or just plain killed. The men the girls met lived under bridges, and carried knives, broken mirrors, and sharpened metal sticks to hurt the girls. In the dream I kept trying to counsel the girls so that they would prostitute themselves in safer ways; it didn't even occur to me to tell them to stop. Then I was woken up by a woman screaming, "No, NO! STOP!" and sobbing. I couldn't find the source of the screaming; it was very faint. I got dressed to get ready to go outside to find the woman, and call the police. But the noise kept stopping. I put my ear to this wall and that, and leaned out the window. Eventually I realized that I had imagined it, that sometimes the wind and the rain and the busses outside sounded vaguely like a scream. As soon as I tried to fall asleep, I would hear it again.

Did I mention how much I am looking forward to September 11? I nearly died on September 19, from something related.

Ugh. Hmm. words escape.

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