“Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.”—Lemony Snicket
“25. And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying, Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee?
26. And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.
27. And the Lord did not ask him again.”—Genesis 3:25–27, Good Omens (via roxanneritchi)
I had a dream last night that we lived in a zombie-apocalypse type of situation, but it was like nbd, it was mostly under control as long as you stuck in groups, etc. (OR SO WE THOUGHT).
I was at a drugstore with some people, and then there was a zombie in the store, and we were all like, dramatic put-upon sigh, WHAT AN INCONVENIENCE, but I was like, “Oh hang on I really need to get cotton balls” (real-life truth. Now you know where my priorities lie. Need for cotton balls > zombie threat), so I went over to the other side of the store by myself to get the damn cotton balls, only then it was like the zombie was mad at me or something (EXCUSE ME FOR WASTING YOUR TIME, ZOMBIE), and I had thrown my drink on the floor, so because of the wetness it/he was able to move more quickly and I was like fuuuuck.
So I yelled at the guard behind the counter to shoot it, because that’s what he was there for, but he didn’t ‘cause he just, like, froze in panic, and I was like “Omg whatever I can do this myself,” so I ran over to him, the zombie In Hot Pursuit!, and he threw the gun at me and fled, and I launched over the counter like the badass that I am, and then I spun around and aimed the gun at the zombie, and the weight of the gun in my hands felt so good, and it felt exactly like it does in real life, and I was like ugh I love guns, but then I pulled the trigger because the zombie was, like, Right There, and…it didn’t go off.
The fucking thing wasn’t loaded. And it was just this unsatisfying, lightweight click-click-click for every time I squeezed the trigger instead of the satisfying heavy feel of a gunshot, and I was so pissed off at the stupid guard for not even loading his gun! Who does that, as a guard in a zombie-apocalypse world??
So I just had to hightail it the fuck out of there, swearing like a sailor the whole way because what the fuuuuck.
I am sure there is some sort of bullshit “I am feeling powerless in my life!!1” symbolism/interpretation to be had in there; and
I really need to go to a shooting range around here because I woke up so damn dissatisfied. The dream got a hell of a lot scarier after that point (Everyone Got Separated! There Was a Lake of Terror that Turned People into Zombies! My Love Interest Turned into a Zombie! etc. etc.), but when I woke up, instead of feeling residual panic/fear, I was just really mad about getting to feel the weight of a gun without actually getting to shoot it; and