This was the gist of last night’s dream. I’ve been awake for 40 minutes now, and the details are fading even as I type this. Suffice to say, I WAS A FLYING ZOMBIE. As I was soaring way up high I noticed two bridges, and I remember the vague notion that I was in Vancouver.
Survivors never seem to know what a zombie is in zombie movies, y’know? They usually wake up from some sort of coma to a world in ruin, and when they come across their first stumbling corpse with its arms outstretched, their reaction is always “Ahh! What is this?! What is happening?!” to which, as a viewer, I always think “it’s a ZOMBIE, idiot. Haven’t you seen Dawn of the Dead?”
Anyway, flying zombies would be terrifying. Unless I was a flying zombie. Then it might be kind of fun. Look out Vancouver.
Is your personality defined by how you perceive yourself or by how you are perceived by others?
I see myself as a good person, but recent life stressers have made me seem bitchier than I intend.
It feels wrong to express opinions when I'm not an expert on the subject matter. But neither is anyone else?
Are catcalls ok? I can't decide.
I've had some of the most intimate conversations with my dad recently, as he waits to get out of hospital.
On the summit of Mt. Douglas
Sound of the waves. Dogs fetching sticks in the water. Much needed alone time.
These kids are behind the bush at a park...they're collecting sticks and making "camp fire"
I got this for my husband as a souvenir ftom my trip to Tokyo.