I dreamed that I was in the middle of a protest.
There were people holding signs on sticks, waving signs in the air. People shouting and singing and roaring.
I heard things like:
“Down with pleasure!”
“Hey, hey, ho ho, luxury items have got to go!”
There were signs showing comfy couches with strikes through them, people publicly burning silk and velvet. There were huge placards with the words DON’T TOUCH written large on them. People exhorted me to give up my pleasure items, to give them up, cast them away. It was like going to a revival.
Last night I dreamed I drowned.
I was swimming in some dark water when I felt something grab one of my legs and pull. I pulled back toward the surface of the water, but whatever-it-was down there got a good grip on both my legs and kept dragging me down.
I couldn’t see anything, not even my frantic hands grasping at nothing as I inhaled water. I choked and choked. My lungs burned. There was no air!
It felt like forever, the choking and the burning. Then it was gone, and I was gone too.
If I ever needed proof that I’m not running at 100% capacity, I got it.
After work, I did some shopping. Just regular household shopping, for groceries and the like. I was only out for a couple hours, but I feel like I got run down by a couple semis.
I need to have my dinner and then find my bed, but I’m too tired to get up to do either.
More rest is in order, I suppose.
I thought I would be back to work on the purging today, but nope.
I had every intention of gearing up when I got home from work; got lots of stuff to get rid of, y’know? But walking up to open my door, everything felt very heavy, and each step was harder.
I ignored the thought, got things together for what I had planned. I started yawning, but I ignored that and kept on.
Rest. Louder now.
Looking for ideas on the internet, I began to fall asleep sitting up. All my energy was suddenly gone.
REST. Ringing in my head.
I guess we’ll get back to the purge another day.