I don't know why I feel the need to write this one down. In many ways, it was so charmingly witty and ridiculous.

In most dreams, I feel nothing but fear. I'm afraid of everything. It comes as close to real life as anything can. I have some severe anxiety, which was never aided by pharmaceuticals, or therapists for that matter. But in this dream, I was far more in control than usual. I had some pretty angry thoughts that day, so I don't know if this relates to that.

I don't know anything about boats or sailing or even really much about water, but it was up to me, for whatever reason, to gather a "crew" to build some kind of makeshift ship because a gigantic flood was on its way. The city was empty, vacant of all human life, so finding these men was a challenge. I searched high and low for them, and eventually compiled a group. They were all much younger than me, I'd say probably eighteen or nineteen. I only vividly remember two of them, though there were definitely more than that. One of which was very feminine and at first glance, could easily be mistaken for female, and the other was a gloomy, brooding young man wearing black. At first, he wanted nothing to do with me.

I immediately wanted to win him over. There was no explanation for it. Sure, I wanted them all to like me, to cooperate with me, even give me ideas, but that one in black changed me. He was essentially me, as a young man, but I badly yearned for us to get along. Often times he would turn his head to me, sneer, and turn away, and if he spoke, it wasn't directly to me.

I got it in my head that he really only got along with people if he was intimate with them, in a sexual sense. As if it were a contest I was holding, I came on to the young, feminine man first. I can't remember what gender I was in the dream, because it's almost always ambiguous in any dream I have. I could be female one minute, and male the next. It's highly possible that I switched genders off and on multiple times, because that often occurs.

The youthful, girly young man was apparently smitten with me. He returned the flirting, and eventually I was doing sexual things with him, which he really seemed to like and be enthusiastic about. Each man in the "crew" had different personalities, so not all of them were into it. Some of them even told me they weren't gay, so I must have been male in that part of the dream.

A large chunk of the dream involved us mapping out where we were supposed to start traveling, and providing rations for the trip. I helped out with most of it. There was some kind of scene involving a restroom (a very dirty one) with lots of stalls. I see this image a lot in my dreams. I don't know if it just means I have a really filthy mind, or what, but bathrooms, especially public ones, appear very often.

Anyways, I eventually got the angry kid in black to talk to me. When approaching the subject of sex, he denied wanting it at first, but then he allowed it, and it was relieving.

Somehow we managed to make three entire boats with just a small group, and ones of pretty impressive caliber. I didn't really care much about anything else when we actually started traveling, other than how close I was to them now. Their happiness mattered a lot to me, and I actually loved them, much like I do my own characters, like they were family.

So, it wasn't a bad dream, until a bad storm hit. Then it frightened me. Things never do go perfectly when I rest. It's always something. Perhaps it reflects my mental state, where even when I'm happy, all I can think about is death and destruction, worrying about losing people I love, being abandoned. I can never really fully be happy. A stressful emotion is always looming around.

Thoughts on dreaming about bathrooms: I have so many dreams involving me in a filthy public restroom, that I was compelled to look it up. It revealed a lot of things, all of them incredibly true. The same day I had this dream, I vowed to delete my Facebook page, simply because everyone on it angers me. I was growing frustrated that I went out of my way to please everyone by commenting and liking all of their stuff, and when I posted artwork or something I made, no one gave two fucks about it. It was hurtful that I spent so much time caring about everyone only to see that people would go months without saying a word to me. I wanted so much to tell them things like this, but I was ashamed of how I thought, because I still considered them friends, and was ashamed because I shouldn't be so judgmental of them. I know I have to try to understand people and their motives, their reasons, and if I tried to tell them I was angry at them, I don't think I have that right, or they'd just call me a drama queen. So I figured I'd save myself some anguish and just delete my profile and not involve myself in anyone's lives, and if they cared about me, they'd call me someday. I know they don't care, so they won't, no matter how much I loved and respected them.

Anyways, apparently dreaming about a public restroom, which I do way too often to go unnoticed, means a concern about how others think of you, a concern about being judged. I don't want the situation to get worse, so I don't even bring it up. I just hold it, and never relieve myself.

But then I think about how good it would feel to lash out at anyone, anyone who dared to speak to me. How good it would feel to relieve my anger. I never get the pleasure. Either people don't care to listen to my own problems because they're too busy bitching at me about theirs, or they're "cockblocking" me in a sense, saying I "shouldn't say such naughty things." It makes it worse, makes it even more frustrating.

Ugh, I didn't intend for this to be so ranting. It just made a lot of sense to read it. But now I understand why people murder others. I'm really tired of being too nice. I feel like Michael Douglas in Falling Down. One day I'm going to snap, and it's not going to end well.