I Need To Breath

Take me back to my home
I wanna go back to where the people aren't so alone.

Take me back to my family
I wanna go back now--I wanna live wanna love wanna see.

Oh Lord, this trail goes on so long
I keep on lookin' up, keep on singin' your song
Lord have mercy, have mercy on me
I try so hard, but now I really want to be free.

My God is good to every single thing.
But right now, oh Lord, all I really need
Is to be able to breath
To be able to breath

And I hear the footsteps of the past
Warning me that I can't go back
And I hear the people all around
Tryin' so damn hard...so damn hard...
To not make that sound

And they laugh and they laugh and it's OK
But inside I know that it's decay
From the over-exposure of this place
And they laugh and they laugh and it's OK
And right now, oh Lord, all I really need is to breath.

Dream Index Log Number 2

Drempt, last night, that I was in DC again, and I was so happy to be away from Missouri. My mum tried to convince me to come back, but I was so happy to be back in the place I love. Connie tried to hang out with me, but I wasn't down with that. I think Justin came with me as well, and either his mum or Logan's mum got pissed that we were sleeping on the same blowup mattress. Oh well.

Dream Index Log 1

I drempt this afternoon that I was in my room, that is, what was my room in the dream. The sheets on my bed had a royal French pattern in gold, with a complete fill of red. There were stairs decending into the rest of what was the house to the immidiate right of my door, on the outer side from my room. My room was white, like the rets of the house and the carpet.

This dream was lucid, but for some reason I wanted to change my sex. It was a difficult thing to do when I tried to make it immidiate, that is, change completely with full size. I had small success however, no pun intended, if I slowly morphed it starting with my own...what have you, and transforming it slowly into the other. I never quite completed it all, though.

After that stopped amuzing me, or maybe during, and African American family of three came into my room. Two pleasantly plump women, and an older man with a mistache, though not quite any white in his hair. He asked me a question, but my nose was extremely clogged, so it took me a while to respond, as I did not think about breathing out of my mouth, or maybe I did and it was still hard to get air. My nose was painfully clogged.

When I woke up, I was flat faced to my mattress. My nose, having been squashed, hurt for a few more minutes, even when I rubbed it a little here and there to "get out the kinks." I suppose I could not breath, and if I hadn't woken up, perhaps I would have suffocated myself. Interesting.