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Last night I dreamed again of being late for school. Just do one thing, any one, and here that the time already spent half an hour. Today I had to do a few things before taking the bus, so even at seven and five, I felt terribly late ... also because at that time I had just finished breakfast.
The last time I dreamed of waking up at ten a quarter and be ready at half past eleven in the morning, but in the dream my mother wanted me to go to school anyway. Valley to understand, mothers ...
This morning as I woke up I realized it was still dark and I was not late, so I've calmed down now ... then I thought I heard the alarm speak with one voice all saccharine, "sure you're on time! And I will ring every morning to help you get up! "
Unfortunately, the alarm is what I hate more, then I will never accept to do so much nice to her. It 's always for this reason that I press the button to turn off the alarm, but I move the lever to remove the whole mechanism of alarm. Alarms do not speak, period.

Another recurring dream is to find in an amusement park.
I've been to several amusement parks: Gardaland, Wonderland, Disneyland Paris, Edenlandia (so called?) Fiabilandia, Overseas (call park ...). And every time it's the same story: I seem to just come see me in another world. But the grass blue and pink stone paths, surrounded by waterfalls too fake and ten meters tall statues do not make me feel happy one hundred percent. I feel the light body, of course, and I have fun, no doubt ... but at the same time I feel a strange sense of suffocation and vertigo, as if I could not stay on my feet.
In a dream everything is more amplified. It 's like walking through a wonderland, surrounded by buildings absurd and rich colors. I see attractions such "fun", but I get scared and decide to go elsewhere ... but for some reason I find myself there, ready to enjoy my turn. So maybe I start to bounce up colored tiles in the dark watching a cinema screen in Technicolor I get on a train or colored ready to enter the throat of any beast they call the stone tunnel.
The worst thing is that here there are my friends, nor appeared visible. I hear the crowd and I see people only when I watch them and do not listen to them, but if I look for someone I find that the playground is spectrally desert.
Then comes her. She, with her eyes and fiery red hair cut short blacks and oblique; her, with his denim shorts with flap, and she, with its thin straps to canottierina that showcases the navel enough to look more ; to a top than a canottierina and she, with her dark brown-soled shoes for hiking high; she, with her tanned skin typical of the Middle East or South America. She, with her chilling saw a yard long from the handle of a bright yellow, with teeth that flutter in the search for life on the run over. And no mention of birch or poplar, here ... but me. And 'me that look, I know with absolute certainty.
So while I try to run away, blocking every scary game I see coming, and she always reached toward the end, she looks like a character in S4 with a new type of melee weapon attacks, with my head spins , my heart breaks and my throat closed by a knot, when I wake up I remains constant and only the horrible feeling of being constantly observed.

Oh, terrible. Oh, scary. Oh, chilling. I could dream it again tonight, maybe. Or Macbeth and the Three Witches persecute me with shrill cries of crows. Or I'll dream of waking up at two in the afternoon, when classes are over, and try to get to school the same. Maybe I'll dream something pleasant to promptly forget as soon as the alarm, with his annoying trill, will dissognarmi brains.

Bah.

Seebaru