I would like to apologize to all six of my regular readers for the lack of weekly updates on the Diary of Avery Blackman and Sock Diaries. It's been a long week involving overnights and very little computer time. But, now, like Michael Jordan to various sports, I'm back, and doing as good or better as before, or so my agent tells me. And now, the moment you've been waiting for, a grown man writing one of two diaries.
Last night, I had what I would call the craziest dream that I've had in a very, very long time. It started off with me roaming through a city at night with a couple of friends. The streets were lit with the lights from the sky scrapers and street lights, and cars roaming by. I had a brand new phone that I was showing off to a friend, showing him a picture of a really cool statue that I had seen on one of the skyscrapers. As I scrolled, I realized that the picture was 3D, and the statue was moving. We came on the street where the statue resided, and watched as it stepped down from the building, and shrank into a beautiful, girl, around my age, well looking my age, because, I mean, let's be sensible here, it was a statue... girl... thing. Anyway, I started to talk to the statue girl, and she gave me some vague explanation of how some witch allowed her to turn into a person every so often or something, I wasn't paying attention, she had a pretty nice rack on her and a low cut shirt.
Anyway, she and I hit it off while my friends and I headed back to the hotel room we had waiting for us in whatever city my mind had created. On the way, we picked up a painting. Well, actually, we picked up a woman who had just emerged from a painting. I averted my attention for a while from the statue woman, to the painting woman, and flirted with her for a while. We got back to the hotel room, and my two friends hopped in the one giant bed we had in the room, along with the two women who had joined us while I stood up, looking and realizing that suddenly, there was no room for me here. No matter what I had done. Despite the fact that I could have tried a little harder to preserve statue girl's feelings, and maybe cared a little more when painting girl decided to hook up with another guy. Statue girl actually shot me a look of spite before she began tonguing down my friend in the hotel bed that I probably paid for. I never looked back over at painting girl, she didn't really mean very much to me at the time.
I woke up shortly after people started hooking up right in front of me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my subconscious might be trying to tell me something. Maybe the statue girl represents my ex, and how I should probably have tried to preserve her feelings a little more. Maybe the painting girl represents the girl I had a small thing with shortly after my last relationship ended. They both found someone new and now I'm standing here, staring. I think my subconscious is really saying that it's time to move on. No more pain, no more regrets. I will miss them, but I don't want them back. It sucks being alone, but after all I've been through, damn I needed it. I did get the sneaking suspicion that the women coming from a statue and a painting might be a sign that I should probably stop trying to satisfy myself with fake women, like strip clubs and porn... but we'll just jump one hurdle at a time.
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