Dream Journal: 2012-08-16.01

Maybe I should sidestep Tumblr awhile. I just spent the last two and a half hours dreaming of watching some interesting reblog chains scroll on my screen. But only a few were some of y’all. The rest were Otherworld Folk that were jumping in giving feedback about my wordy posts and talking about things.

Y’all know how weird it is to have a bitchfest break out over who is the more terrifying creature? I watched an ego fight unfold because I had been successfully scared by one creature, and not scared by another, and the former was calling out the latter on Tumblr and told to “incarnate as a human if ya wanna learn something”. The latter starts bragging about scaring this person and being the fear of that culture. The former dismisses it with “And yet, you couldn’t scare One. Little. Girl.”

And those of y’all interacting with these Other Folk had no clue. Which made the argument about the Morrigan quite interesting. Considering she was one of the verbal combatants but I couldn’t tell y’all.

I realized I was dreaming when I recognized handles and avatars of people I know don’t have a tumblr. When I yelled at the screen that I was dreaming and all this interaction was just desperate wishing, the screen cleared except for two posts.

“You have no idea how much your writings are talked about. Most people that read it just don’t know how to approach you or even if they should.” — Written by a person I know in the waking, but does NOT have a tumblr.

“Bitch, you’ve stirred up so much shit. You just don’t know. You will soon.” — Written by an Other Folk that used non-Latin characters in kir name and had an elaborate drawing of a raven for the avatar.

Then I woke up.

I’m making these notes as I console myself with chocolate milk. Because I really would like more interaction on tumblr. Even the anon questions. Maybe it’s the folks I’m stalking following. I feel okay to speak when I want to speak. Okay to be silent when I want to be silent. Okay to agree with everyone else. Okay to disagree and strike out alone.

Am quite curious what kind of shit I’ve allegedly stirred up. This time.

Guess I’ll be finding out soon, eh?

Glass is empty. Good night.


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