prior Right before I woke up, I was picking something up from the back of a parking spot, and some rich bitch pulled up and the hood of her car almost hit my hand. My arm was outstretched but the hood of her car obscured my hand from view, so close she had come to hitting it.
moreI don’t remember what happened next, but I must have said something to her, because she acted like a huge fucking cunt, and then her rich daughter came out of the car wearing her all-white outfit and was even cuntier than the mom. I told her off a little, and then I saw her dart off to our classmates (we were about to start med school) and presumably start gossiping about me. Then I went over to my friends and started gossiping about her and the mom.
As the mom was leaving I did my best to flash her my middle finger, but I kept trying and trying and couldn’t get the finger up. The dean of the school was watching me try to do it, which made me want to stop trying.
When I woke up, I started criticizing my dreamself. What a coward. Shouldn’t I have threatened dreamviolence? I thought about what this might entail: kicking out one of her headlights, for example. But no, she’d just use the full power of the law to drain my bank account—and find some kind of sport in it.
I could’ve gotten up in her face and said “fuck you, what the fuck was that, what did you just fucking say?” Beocome more volatile. Tell her that dreamviolence would be justified against someone who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but their own dreamfamily. Their dreamfamily, mind you, was full of disgusting colonizer blood that needs to be exhumed and returned to the dreamearth if we ever want to see any kind of dreamjustice.
daddy issues