Feeling: Compressed
Listening to: Course of Nature - Gain
Reading/Watching: the moderns and existentialists. bleh.

Everyone is grouchy and sleep-deprived this week. I try to go out with friends to get away from the black cloud of finals that hangs over the campus like a GPA-shroud, but quickly realize it is a huge mistake, because no matter who I am with, we are both tired and pissy and things just go south from there.

Last night after going shopping with Bri, I went to my room and fell asleep at 8 p.m. Had a strange dream (description forthcoming). I woke up like a reflex at 3, then relaxed and slept again until six-thirty. Now I'm here, re-reading Borges and Kafka and Beckett.

I dreamed that I was out with Quincy, and as we walked, talking happily (though I can't remember what was said), my hair grew straighter. Like water was slowly trickling over it, weighing it down bit by bit. After a while it hung like a curtain down my back (it was really pretty, though).

Then he kissed me, and it rapidly coiled into its usual mess of curls. I held him to me, because I knew he was fixing things, and by the end of the kiss it was normal again, tight little spirals.

We kept walking, I think looking for a big bug (I've been re-reading Metamorphosis for my English final, which incidentally is today), and he was holding my hand and leading me, because he thought he knew where it was, and I was dismayed to realize my hair was loosening again, unwinding like snakes until it hung limp. So I grabbed him and kissed him again, but this time my hair didn't curl up as far.

I wonder what would've happened if it had turned into a sex dream. ::evil look::

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