Blank.

It is early in the morning.

I have just woken up from a very aggressive dream that was very trying on my art of cynicism. I was a traveling transport of emotions, literally, as when things got tough and I acted out, I would get really angry and throw that at people, even if they weren't entirely at fault, purely with words and this raw animalistic angst that seemed to spread even deeper into my core, as time progressed.

There was one instance of a very rude lady, trying as she might to board the tube, as I was attempting an exit. She pushed her way through, I screamed at her, she physically kicked me, whilst she stood, but then all of a sudden, possibly due to my guilt of the situation, she magically was just sitting in a wheelchair attempting to board. It was all very strange.


I was travelling with my family, which consisted of my mom, dad, a little sister, although there isn't much of an age gap, she is still and always be the younger of us two. I felt in my element, London, but likewise, disconnected and alone, amongst the crowds of people, wanting to get from point A to B.

I know there was a few more run-ins with people, but at the moment, it escapes me, along with the understanding into why I felt so angry throughout my dream? It's not like I had a bunch of cheese before drifting off into la-la-sleepy-land last night?:-/

I could feel the injuries, the kicks and pangs inflicted from other people's aggressions radiating pain within my body.

We got off the train, then realised that the one we just jumped off, was the one we still needed to be on. I jumped, along with my family, back onto the train, and I tried as I might to get a seat next to my dad, as my mom and sister were able to be sitting all along the same stretch. I screamed, ARRRRRRRRGH! and the guy that took the spot I was aiming to be in, gave me the look, of "What the hell is up with you, man?" At this point, I actually apologized, as I was sitting right across from the guy and just told him flat out that I was having a really bad day, just as a point of possible forgiveness on my part.

In all honesty, this dream really was a bad dream, kinda like a wannabe-nightmare, but on a more realistic level that would happen even in my waking hours.

All of a sudden people with guns were messing about, the train was slowing down in a tunnel(typical), and they began to open fire on people. I got up and saw that my dad had also gotten up to try to deal with the issue at hand. He went to the main culprit, but way too much time passed, and people with the guns developed their own thoughts on the situation, my dad then attacked, but he was too late, and the guy found my dad's weakness, as he began to collapse in my arms.

It actually felt quite similar to when Salt, my cat, was dying in my arms on the way to the 24 hour vet. Weak, frail, and not a whole lot that can be done, but with hope always lingering like a leaf twisting in the breeze.

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So, now I am awake, Pepper having been given food for the first half of the day, fresh water, and she is now perched on her cat tree as she greets the sun that is making its rounds for the day.

There was a fire down the street, smoke clouds bellowed above, but fortunately, it looks under control and fingers crossed, no one was hurt.

I don't really see the ghost of my cat, Salt. I wish I could, just to know that he is existing on another level and not just the energy in memories that I hold of him. Maybe I'm just greedy, but I once felt so secure in the fact that there was something else, something beyond. I still do, but that has been tested all too much recently, so it leaves me weak and unsure. Unsure about my self; unsure about the future; am I going about life right; when will I get a grip on my own confidence again or do I have to make an entirely new one?

Time. My frienemy. I. The fool.

My mind feels blank on this canvas, already painted.