I had a dream that my mother was seeing a vampire. He had a thick, pale face, and wore a long black cape; i was the only one who knew he was evil. The entire time inside my dream, i was plagued with uneasy, wary feelings about the vampire man who had a strange fetish for chairs, yet i was dismissed by every person i was trying to reason with. i was convinced that i was right, and that everyone was wrong. I ended up having to spend an entire day with the vampire where he was trying everything he can to please me, and yet, the entire time i was so pissed off.

Most of my dreams these days seem to consist of fear, anger, and frustration, where i find myself being pressured under the spotlight of some malevolent glare. Perhaps there is an unhappy ghost living inside my bedsheets.