You know it's useless to pretend. That's all the voices say: "You'll go right on circling until you've found some kind of friend."

A dream I had a couple nights ago. I apologize in advance.


I stood on the shoreline watching someone toss a fishing line into the water, the strong current giving her nothing more than gratuitous amounts of seaweed and false hope. It seemed she would not catch a thing.

She was certain, once again, that she had something on the other end of her line and reeled vigorously, but there was no sign that anything was fighting it – probably another patch of seaweed.

Then I saw, as if obscured by a camera lens, a blurry mass being dragged across the sand to where we stood.

I bent down and heard the softest hooting noise, so soft I could almost feel it like a blanket on my face. It pained me like the most piercing shriek.

My eyes focused and I saw that it was an owl. His feathers were drenched and matted by the unforgiving salt of the ocean. Frail wings were brutally crushed beyond repair and black eyes seemed to plead with me, for something, anything.

He let out another terrible, heartbreaking hoot, as fragile as silk, and I began to cry. What could I possibly do for this poor creature? I touched its wings very softly and one of them fell off. The owl continued to sing his gentle, barely-audible requiem as I cried and helplessly looked around me for anyone else to care – no one noticed.

Finally, I resorted to trying to pick it up to take it somewhere. I put my hands underneath and lifted. For a moment, it seemed to work, but as I regained some sense of hope, the owl dissolved between my fingers, its eyes remaining for a split second, imprinted in my mind.


I'm sorry if that was depressing. Like, ruthlessly depressing. It was something that really stayed with me when I got up, though, and I've been thinking hard about it for the last couple days. It felt vivid, as most dreams where I start to cry feel.

I don't mean to say that I'm always sobbing hysterically in my dreams or anything, because I'm not, but it does happen occasionally. This was probably the most personal and unsettling one of those dreams I've ever had, though. Usually I'm crying about something stupid.

Anyway, I just wanted to document it the best I could. A few other things happened after that, but it was all extremely fuzzy and disjointed, and it hasn't been eating away at me like this has.

I'm done now. It's time to sleep. Goodnight.

END.