I don't know if it's because it's been the holiday season, or if it's partly due to how limited I was in using the Internet in December, therefore being limited to short and mostly "ready-made" entries where all I had to do was cut and paste the chosen story, song, etc. into the editor's box, but I feel like this isn't a reflection no, a true journal anymore, in the truest sense of the...object. I haven't written about a lot of things going on. Like Mom's new job or Jon Harrison's mission or Cannon's changes as a baby. He's six-months-old now! I've mostly written about feelings and observations regarding things in life, or events going on around me that have nothing, whatsoever, to do with family or friends. While I don't totally regret going silent on family, this lack of "regular" entries has disturbed me somewhat. I feel I've gotten away from the original purpose of why I started this journal--to keep a record, the normal reason anyone keeps a journal or diary. I looked for a way to keep one on the computer originally, because I was tired of worrying about legibility, hand cramps and ink splots and smudges. Mostly it was the hand cramping that motivated me to go electronic. I would still have loads to get out and to say, but would have to stop because my hand hurt too much to continue.

I don't know...I realize as a person changes and grows, so does the journal. It reflects them at the time they write it, and each volume is different, if only slightly in some cases. This journal sure has changed, even in the last two and half years. Less intimate, personal stuff and more creative writing. Maybe I'm on the verge of yet another change and it's going to be a reversal back to something a lil more personal--though if so, I'm still going to be cautious, more so than I was when I first began this four years ago.

I don't know, honestly.

It's now late, so I'm going to pick this up again tomorrow.

I don't know what started this. I've had weird dreams before--superweird dreams, *laughs wryly* ha! that's all I seem to have anymore--without too much of a disturbed sleep over a prolonged period of time. I don't know why this is different this time. The dreams, the one I remember vaguely and the nightmare I had one night, have no relation (that I can see) to what is going on around me. They seem to be independent products of my ever imaginative mind.

I haven't had a true nightmare in a long while, so mayhap I was due for one. I dreamt I was at my grandparents' house, Grandpa and Grandma B.'s, I think it was, but it wasn't their normal place. And I wasn't sleeping in my normal bed at their house, which is a twin. I had just been put to bed in a full-sized or queen-sized bed, and it was late. The room was painted in blended shades of white to gray to charcoal by the moonlight coming in from a big window across the room from the bed. The sheets were white and the top blanket--a crocheted throw, I think--was an off-white. The room was big, unfamiliar and disconcerting. What made it disconcerting and unnerving, even scary, were the devilish imps that crowded around and onto the bed. They meant to harm, and what was worse, they were invisible. I couldn't see them...unless they burrowed between the mattress and sheet or under the blankets. Then you knew where they were because they appeared in the bedding as kitten-sized lumps. Although there was nothing cute or friendly about these lumps. I was half-twisted on my back and right side with my left arm bent so my my hand was by my head. An imp was near that, and what made my fear worse were the lil sounds they made. Growling and cackling and low, mean-spirited murmurs voiced in a language all their own. I musta called out or something or my mother decided to check on me because she came to the doorway and I told her what was going on. She came in and laid herself across me diagonally, taking me in her arms to comfort me. I wrapped my own around her and a few minutes later, maybe, asked her if there was an imp on the bottom left corner of the bed. She tapped the bed with her foot in that general area and said, "Yup he's right there. I can feel him with my foot." I looked, though her tennis shoe-clad foot was in the moonlight for all to see clearly, the lump was more in the shadows where I couldn't see it easily. But I knew it was there. I knew they were all there, growling, cackling, mumbling and murmuring evilly. Mom stayed with me...

Doesn't sound very scary now, but at the time, in the middle of the night, with gray and even grayer shadows around me and my overactive imagination going full bore, it was as scary as or almost so as the Poltergeist dream I had.

I don't know what is going on, but I hope it ends soon.

moon phase