When dreams make you feel funny

What about that odd series of dreams that I had last night that added up to a giant clusterfuck of what. the. heck? 

 There was an open sea with many people swimming and having a great time. I was with a family of mexicans (?) who I have never met in my waking life and then out of the clear water I see the dark shadow of a large creature. I tell them that I think a shark is in the water and then jaws itself comes up razor sharp teeth blazing in the sun. I get on a pink floaty raft and the family is still in the water. Everyone is screaming and swimming away and sharkie jumps into the air and makes a grab for the 8ish old girl. Everyone is sad that she died. 

  I am going to a house, but it is sort of a shanty village I am walking through. On the first house there are poodles who are being groomed and what not, they are beautiful and majestic. That is what I remember thinking about them in my dream. The next house has homeless raggedy dogs. They are skinny and balding and are flanked by flies. The steps to the wooden screen door are run down, Barn red in crayola crayon terms. I enter and there is a brothel. Everyone is beautiful, and having sex. I dont know how but I find myself having anal sex. Its one of those things where the dream just picks up from a different part? I can feel the pressure in my stomach and it affects my breathing in a very real way. Like I am being fucked to death in the ass. Anyway, Kent comes and takes a picture and says "sweet." 

 I am home with my parents and I am in a massive hurry to leave because I am worried about being taken away to the basement (we dont have one in reality) and having tests performed on me. My parents keep trying to persuade me to stay and assuage any fears I have. I tell them I will stay but I need to sleep, they agree. I sneak into the basement and find all sorts of weird devices and body functions monitoring equipment. I hear my parents come down and I hide behind some weird thing that I dont know what to call. I feel really tense and amped up.

When I wake up I feel oh so tired. And my hearts pumping so fast I'm dizzy. I want less vivid dreams...also happier ones. 

phrases that crack me up

"(____) cracks me up"

"are you serious?"

"what the fuck?" (if said with a certain kind of emphasis)

also: mental masturbation. 

also, kyle just asked me if i wanted to smell what his wet spot smelled like. which also could be a little funny to some people. but disgusting to me.

also, i will add more to this list once i think of it

Creative people and mental illness revisited

REMEMBER THIS:

creative people and mental illness
I came across an interesting section while I was in the library (where i currently am "working" on a paper) that showed the extensive amount of research done on the subject of creative people and mental illnesses/depression/suicide. (Now I know what you are thinking, but don't worry, I don't think that I am apart of this illustrious group of people.) Apparently researchers have looked into how the brains of creative people function differently from the rest of the population, which sometimes renders them unable to cope with things, etc. Perhaps it takes a certain level of insanity to produce creative works of ________. Or perhaps it is because creative people are hypersensitive to the critiques of their work? I should read about it and find out and report back.

i was "writing" a paper today in the library and decided to take a "break from writing" and learn a bit more about this strange correlation. apparently, it is not that creative people are unable to necessarily cope with things. Its more about the chemistry in their brain that allows them to see things in an artistic and creative manner, and how researchers think that since that part of the brain is so large, everything else is stunted. thus when one is creative, it is possible that he has not properly learned basic social customs. thus creating a vicious cycle in which he goes deeper and deeper into a black hole of hating society. etc. also everyone knows of the tortured artist type. the no-one-gets-my-genius-type. 

i thought the research would have been more geared at actual brain chemistry and neurological differences, but alas! Just people grasping at straws.