May 5. 2008.

Had another truly bizarre dream last night…another dream about having a son actually. I wonder if when I have a baby, I’ll have a son…weird. I’ve had two dreams about sons.

In my dream I had just found out that I was pregnant, but the progression of time was really bizarre so that in about a week I was at Kroger with mom buying food when I ended up laying on the conveyor belt and giving birth. It was so weird. In the beginning of the dream the father was Matty G the punk kid I met the other day, but he didn’t look anything like what he looks like in real life. He looked more like Rob McAdams my studio teacher from Art Foundations. So Marian the girl in my classes now, who’s pregnant, was walking me through preparations for having a baby since I didn’t have any time to plan or anything. I was so worried about school and not being able to do finish school. The weirdest part was that I didn’t even once consider abortion and I’m not sure that it was set up in my dream so that I could because it all happened so fast or I don’t even know. But I remember thinking after the baby was born, I named him Benjamin, and only then wondering about why I didn’t get an abortion.

There was another part of the dream where Brandon Petteway was getting into trouble with the law, and he was about to get off completely by telling lies, but he’d been a total ass to me about getting pregnant and having a kid so I turned his name into the cops. Then there was this montage of me and my baby and his daddy all hanging out and being wonderfully happy and my parents were there and it was great, but the whole time it felt strange. So one day, my parents are out and baby’s daddy and I get into an argument, I don’t remember what it was about, but he took a big knife and sliced up my baby and I was hysterical and so I wrestled the knife away from him and we grappled for a few minutes and I stabbed him in the chest. And somehow I was weirdly calm and I think my sister was there and she waited with me and told me that I would have to tell mom and dad when they got home. I told them and it was so horrible and we were all so sad about the baby dying, but not so much about his daddy. Then I fled to the tropics to start over so that I wouldn’t have to go to jail.