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To my fans, followers, and humanitarians

Hello Everyone!

While normally I use this site to record my dreams, as well as talk about the occasional life event every now and then, this post is about living your dreams. Specifically, I was accepted into my Masters degree program for Mental Health Counseling. My dreams is to one day be able to open my own practice, however, I need your help. Please take the time to read carefully, and help however you can.

Much love from the hopeless dreamer herself,
Carol Simpson


Acceptance Letter



878176-Steampunk 3

I’m out and about with my dad at nighttime in this highly crowded place – most likely Florida and during Mardi-gras. People have drinks in hand and as they walk down the street, and a few were a little too obnoxious. We make our way to the car whens some heavy African american dude tries to get into a rumble with my dad. My dad tries to get him to back off, but then they exchange words and a gun is produced from the fat guy who picked a fight. Before he can fire in his inebriated state, the gun falls to the pavement and my dad scrambles for the gun. I try to stop them from a fight but getting the gun out of my dad’s hand so no one would get hurt, and I dont know how it happened, but as I was trying to take the gun from my dad the gun fired and it shot and killed him on the spot. I wept bitterly over my father. I really dont know how it happened, but I blamed myself – even though I didn’t pull the trigger. He was pronounced dead on the scene.

I wasn’t arrested right away, but a detective did take me to some school. He was also heavy set, white, dark hair, brown eyes. “Remember this?” he asked. “No” I replied, what is this place – and why are we here? It was a classroom with a single classroom desk in the middle of the room and no chairs. It was in some massive business building on about the 17th-23rd floor. It had the traditional 90’s school floors – white cut out tiles that were made of some kinda linoleum or plastic. No matter how much you mopped it, there was always dirt. Anyway, the detective starts to ask me questions about the room and if I remember it. I said I have no memory of the room itself, but I have a bad feeling about this place that I can’t put my finger on. Then he told me this is where I murdered a little boy when I was a child. I was dumb-struck and couldn’t believe it. Then we went through the details of how it happened. It was also an accident, but they let me off because I was a child, and I genuinely had no clue what I was doing – I was too small. As he tells me the details my mind starts to unfold as I envision what he said and was made to believe it. “Where did he lay?” I asked the detective. He pointed to the floor. I broke down over that spot and wept bitterly. First I killed my dad, and now I’m forced to remember killing this little boy who was no more than 4 or 5 when I was his age. The gun back then belonged to the teacher and he irresponsibly left it out, so he was charged instead.

Never the less, people start going into the room when another gentleman shows up; he was a light-skinned African american, about 35, handsome – dressed in a wal-mart blue button-up shirt and jeans. Both of us were under the impression he needed to speak to the detective, but he was there to speak to me. I step aside for them to talk and he approaches me for a chat. He asked me about the details as to what happened with my dad, and I explain them. I bitterly wept again having to try to relive the trauma. When all was said and done I told him I knew what happened was an accident, but legally I’m held guilty and plan to plead “guilty – no contest.” Someone had to pay for what happened and I felt too grief ridden to try to blame the owner of the gun or seek a lawyer.

I leave outside and am transported back to the scene of my fathers murder; it’s night time again. I look for dads car to take me home. I get inside and find the keys. Out of nowhere, dad shows up in the front passenger seat from beyond the grave. He tells me he forgives me and that Nana and pop are gonna take it really hard, and there’s a will with money I need to look for for Jamie and myself. I drive back to his apartment in Sarasota and walk inside to look for Jamie first and see if he knew what had happened. As I step into his room his head hangs low and he refuses to look at me. The blinds are shut behind him, but the light from the morning sun invades the darkness, creating a blanket of shadow that envelops my brother. I try to tell him it was an accident and that I’m eternally sorry for what has happened, but he looked so lost. I weep as hard as I can on the floor again. Dad steps in and tries to say something, but only I can hear him. I translate what he said back to jamie, but he’s still too angry and upset to listen.

I wake up with tears in my eyes and a runny nose.


I remember driving towards sanborneville in the big white van. I took the normal path – nothing special; gas station on the corner just off 16. I had no idea why I was going, but I just was. It was a beautiful day and I think the sun was just barely starting to set; the world seemed to have this warm golden-orangeish hue about it. It must have been around 3pm. I had the window down and my arm resting along side. I looked out the window towards the train tracks passing by on my left. I feel at peace. There is no purpose. There is no destination – only what lies ahead of me, what lies around me, and peace.

Then I’m at home somehow and I get a phone call from my mother. She’s having an argument with randy or something, and she asks for my help on communication skills to improve the situation. I don’t remember how exactly I respond, but I think I don’t help her in the end because I’m still working on improving my communication skills. How can I claim to help her when I’m not proficient enough in my own world? I remember asking myself this question in my dream…. still, she said she understands and was proud of me with my education.

983545-1920x1200 - lay down and relax by Christopher Wesser

The dream of annoying betrayal


During an afternoon nap I took, I had an awful dream.

I’m sitting on the couch with Elizabeth having a conversation about my sons school. They switched up his daily progress reports to a piece of paper with check marks and comments. I tell elizabeth about this and how its not the same thing as a hand written report, and she misconstrues my message to think that I’m complaining that the teachers dont care about my son or family enough.

Well, lizzy leaves for a few minutes and walks back in the door.

She starts off lecturing me about the school and asking if I knew about all the hard work the teachers put into taking care of my son and I said yes, so she continues on and concludes it all with saying “so the teachers didn’t appreciate you saying you feel like they’re neglecting your son, and you hurt their feelings.” I got instantly pissed and said “wait a minute, you told them about that conversations?” To which, she looked someone shocked and said “well I had to go to the school anyway.”

I lost it.

“First of all,” I shouted “that was a PRIVATE conversation between the two of us. You fucking twisted my words because that is NOT how I felt, and spread around a bunch of bull shit.”
“Second, I was on AMAZING terms with his teachers, and I NEVER had a problem with them! What the hell!?!” Then I carelessly threw out the “B” word.

She cuts me off on mid-way though my rant and sulkily says “so does this mean were not mother daughter anymore?”
Lizzy and I have this thing where I’m like a daughter to her and shes like a mom to me, so she was clarifying on the status of our friendship. I couldn’t answer, and that pissed me off even more – it was a low blow. If I told her we were still friends like that it would force me to calm down and make it seem like what she did was acceptable – and it wasn’t; not by any means.

I grunted loudly and said “I need to find my phone and call the school.” She says “okay.” I flip through my contacts and hit the dial, but no one answers. It goes to voice messaging and I realize its the wrong number. I grow more frustrated and express how I NEED to fix this. Lizzy storms off into her room and mumbles “how rude.”

I want for round two and said “Excuse me? You’re the one who fucking caused all this shit. Are you really gonna sit there and bitch about the fact that I’M ANGRY BECAUSE YOU LIED AND SPREAD RUMORS IN A WAY THAT COULD FUCK OVER MY SONS EDUCATION, AND HIS ENTIRE LIFE!?!? ARE YOU SHITTING ME!!”

Once again she throws out the mother/daughter line. I grunt and even louder and go through my contacts again. I wont forgive her until I can make this right, and if I cant – I’m throwing her out!

I flip though my numbers again and wake up after not being able to find it.


Prior to this dream I was running in and out of various locations with various people. It ended when Peter and Jason pulled up at church in his dads car. I didn’t know how to handle it. I know before then Jamie was in it, and I was running; I think I was venturing for something like a treasure or something of value and worth. I wish I could remember.

History Doesn’t Repeat Itself – It Only Rhymes

This is just killinng me now `

So my first dream was almost the same thing as yesterday; literally. Only differences were it was fragmented and a everything looked tiled in the end just like a mosaic, with blurred red, orange, pink, and gold hues. Still, I was desperate for my son.

THEN I had another one. I was (i guess) living with my mom again, and Grandma was living with us too in this really big nice new home. Very middle class, white, two stories, etc.. My grandmother took me out for a drive that was about 100 miles one way – a little more than an hour long there, and a little more than an hour back. Grandma needed to pick up her Lunesta meds… why lunesta, I dont know, because its not like she was prescribed them anyway. We took the highway for the most part. Scenic mountains and a few random shops trailed the journey there. Somehow Aunt Angie randomly appeared sitting next to me in the front seat of the car. Grandma started playing favorites and got irritated with me, so she sent me to the back of the car. I remember her at one point saying not to hog the seat because it will push Angie too far to the edge of our seat. If the car should flip, she doesn’t want Angie getting hurt. (Odd.)

I moved to the back seat, where 2 out of 3 of Angies kids/my cousins appeared; Ryan and Ashley. I forget what we all talked about, but I remember freaking out now about Syrus. I didn’t tell mom I was leaving so, once again I felt like I had abandoned him and left him all alone. Grandma got annoyed and said it was fine and to stop freaking out – we’ll be back soon.

Finally we were “home.” I ran inside and mom was there in the kitchen. I asked her about Sy and told her I was out with Grandma. She was cool with it and did a good job with the kiddo. I went to see him next. I found my little man, gave him a great big hug, and with that, I woke up.


Abandonment Issues

What a nightmare. ūüė¶

I woke up from dead sleep to a panic. I dreamed I left my son home alone in the middle of the day for him to do his own thing. When I got home he put himself to bed and woke up the moment he heard me. I felt so guilty I ran up and snuggled him.

During this process of getting to my son, Verna Emerson was in my dream, and we ran into each other at the dollar tree and I asked for her help – said it was an emergency. She took me to the beach thinking we had time, but finally she got it. She was just as sweet and kind as ever.. I miss her. In my dream however I abandoned her and promised to go back to her, but I didn’t. ūüė¶ Manifestations of the real world I guess. I still want to go back to church… I feel like I owe her. Correction – I DO owe her… ūüė¶ She was an unsung hero in my world and I never truly recognized it.

Meh… anyway, before seeing Verna, I was running uphill in Dover, hard and fast, already short on breath from panic. I cross the road trying to get to the spot needed to see my son then too, but it didn’t quite work. The buss rounded the corner, saw me, and offered a lift. I caught the door as it was moving and held on for a while as it was going 20 MPH or so. I thought it would stop at Market Basket for me, but went straight to the dollar tree (hence how I ended up there.) Anywho – when it picked me up I and a bunch of runners out of nowhere disrupted the flow of traffic by jogging in the middle of the road. I remember feeling guilty for it, and afraid I was going to be hit by a car.

I just wanna wake up and snuggle my lil man now to make sure he’s okay ūüė¶ I love my baby boy. He’s amazing.104935-scenery_nature_landscape_photography_black_and_white

Digging in my Closet (Dreams from May)

Hey guys,

So I was looking through some old documents on my computer trying to find a phone number, when I had totally forgotten I had a dream folder I started in May, prior to starting this blog. I figured I share them with you. I dont remember the one with my ex, but I do remember the baby one. That was horrifying.

“What an awful nightmare… I was chased around by these 2 black guys trying to rape me. They asked me to get in their car thinking I was a hooker and I said no. I run through a beaten path in the middle of the woods. I loose guy number 1, but guy number 2 is hot on my track. I find a white house in the middle of the woods. I didn’t bother to knock cause the lights were on, so someone was awake and willing to listen. I burst through the back door into the kitchen, slam it, and no sooner had I turned around when he follows me in and tries to catch me in this random strangers home! I run into the living room where I see a mother and a baby she’s cradling who’s about a month old. Frantic I try to tell her were in danger – but too late. I hear a spray can and the guy is now spraying roach spray in order to kill me, but I ran away. I watched in my minds eye however as he proceeds to spray the baby in the face with roach killer – and the mother didn’t struggle. She was in shock and horror. Turns out the black man trying to rape me was this guy’s wife, and the baby he killed was theirs.”



“Aris and I were at my house and he was doing random shit. First he was over for miscellaneous reasons, then he took off, then he came back in a brand new high power sports car, which he then proceeded to race someone in the parking lot with. The other guy slid and slammed his breaks, and aris proceeded to drift past him within¬†centimeters¬†of the cars slamming each other. Supposedly he scratched him with that top tail fender thing but I didn‚Äôt see anything. Anyway, Aris was amused and thankful for the good time and offered to pay for the tiny scratch – which was nothing more than paint coming off on his end onto this other guys car. No dents.

We all go back into my house where they proceed to chill and chat in the kitchen discussing their choice in sports cars. I was about to leave again to head to market basket, but as I rounded the corner out the front door, the other guy asked if he had plans later. Aris said yes, with some other woman. Typical me I hung my head low and walked straight back into the kitchen sulking and panicked. Aris was fiddling around with some cheese for a sandwich at this point, and I needed a hug from disappointment. I waited for him to come and comfort me, but instead he gave me this awful smirk, knowing he hurt me and doesn’t care – he enjoys it (yes I get that smirk in real life.) Instead the other guy comes up towards me to grab a drink behind me. Seeing my sorrow the stranger proceeds to embrace me‚Ķ to fulfill the need I had for a hug and¬†nurturing¬† I reject him because I don‚Äôt know him very well, and because I found myself in a mix of emotions. I was flattered, admiring him, and upset for touching me when he never asked me if it was okay. He let me go and wandered off to get that drink. I felt embarrassed then because he lived here at the same complex, and I rejected him when he was trying to be kind. I wondered if he would try something like that again. Aris finally gets up and proceeds to give me the hug that I needed, but also hugging me from behind instead of my front. I can’t bury my face in his chest. Then we start talking again in our usual ‚ÄúI‚Äôm not fighting, but tensions are there‚ÄĚ styles.
What sucks was when I started typing this, the conversation was fresh and I knew what he said.
Amazing what 5 minutes can do. ūüė¶ Damn.”

mountain climber

Crimes of the Heart

I’m working at a museum in the heart of the city of Boston. I run into an older heavyset male in his 40’s who works for the place. He plan’s on stealing an Egyptian gold¬†necklace, and needs my help to carry it out. The¬†value of the necklace is expensive, but undisclosed to me. What I remember is how he said he’ll live comfortably for the rest of his life from it.

On a white pillar in the middle of the room, he lifts a small bottomless glass case that housed the necklace and takes it. Calmly he walks over to the elevator and meets me inside. The doors shut, we go down to the bottom level, and on the way he goes through plan with me. I get the necklace while inside the elevator and head calmly towards the double doors to leave. He takes something fake and gold from inside his pocket and tosses it across the room to fool the security cams and guards who are slowly creeping up on him. I make it outside with him where he stands at a distance to watch what I do. Someone else comes up and joins us, and I give him the jewelry, and move on to the next phase. We take off and he surrenders as a gimmick to the cops. I follow the guy who I passed the jewelry off to because I wanted to ensure my own ass from getting into trouble with the boss.

We end up in either Arizona or Texas after walking for so long. We see a Government fenced off building in the distance and head up the hill towards it. Once we are there though, we see the police¬†barricading¬†the entrance, along with the same heavy set guy who stole the¬†jewelry¬†earlier. He’s now “helping” the police to recover the item, when really, this was all a part of the plan. As we approach I realize they might recognize me from the museum security cameras. The guy gives me back the¬†jewelry,¬†and leaves before he gets caught. I’m standing there like a deer in the headlights when a loud Asian man walking his dog rounds the corner. The fat museum guy leads the charge against the Asian man just as everyone was about to suspect me. In a really¬†stereotypical¬†Asian-American accent, the guy flips out saying “Hey! Why you go attacking me? Why you no look for someone else? I just walkin my dog!” After arguing with the fat guy for some time the Asian guy and I are excused. I walk along side the Asian man and once we’re out of sight, I hand him the necklace; all according to plan. Also, the accent was fake. ~Well played trolling Asian man.

Next, we cut from scene to scene of the necklace¬†being handed off to random people in different states, and I follow along to ensure the¬†safety¬†of the item. At last, I end up in Portsmouth, NH. Suddenly, I watch as the man who has the artifact now, throws the necklace over the fence into the sea. I panic and jump off a building, over a fence, and straight into the water after it. Once I’m fully submerged and mentally check to feel if I got hurt, I open my eyes to see two scuba diver fetch the necklace and swim to the surface.

My dream trips again into me drowning – like I always do in water. Somehow, possibly for the first time ever, I live. I swim up to the top gasping for breath and follow at a distance the one guy who has it. Eventually we meet the museum guy in the downtown area of Portsmouth and hand it off to him. He talks about the fortune he just got away with stealing and how proud he is, and takes off after thanking me for my services.

I go for a stroll in town and find “grandmas house,” though she’s not my grandmother – just some old woman in her 80’s. She’s standing in front of her car with a¬†teenage¬†relative. There, an old man approaches her and asks if her name is (blank). She says yes, and to further clarify this is the woman he’s looking for, he spouts off a bunch of random facts about her life. Taken aback she asks how he knew all this stuff. He boldly clutches his cane and happily states “I love you, I always have,” and spouts off even more facts that reinforce his love for her. She, now in an emotional and breath taking state of shock asks “who are you,” to which he reveals his name.

From there my dream cuts to a scene where picture after picture over a black background is morphing with age and time showing the two of them together in a living room with 3 couches and a fireplace. Somehow, one of those photos from the get go was me as a kid – about 12 years old, but then it’s back to the other two who look like their from the 50’s based on their clothes, the environment, and the fact that the pictures are in black and white. They’re in a living room playing and laughing together as older kids, the, the pictures show them as teens, then morphs into adults in their 20’s, then 30’s, and then he’s no longer in the series of pictures – gone from this¬†living room. The photos now in color to highlight the progression of time. Its just the woman with picture after picture of her raising kids on her own and holidays spent less than at their best. She looks sad.¬†Finally the pictures (and her age) catch up to today, and show the two of them happily lying together on the right couch in the living room for the final¬†picture. The picture is now the same quality of today, but back to black and white.¬† The visual freezes on the couple smiling, and slow¬†dolly’s¬†into a close-up of their embrace, then momentarily fades to black. This last picture must have been a picture of their future, because it goes back to the two of them talking outside. Apparently they were the best of friends at one point, and he’d kept tons of¬†memorabilia¬†about her. Shes amazed and loves him too as they slowly approach each other – she stained with tears, and he etched with hope. The dream fades to nothing but the overwhelming emotion to two people engulfed in one another with the promise of a happy lifetime. No matter how much time had forced them to age, the one thing time could never touch was love.

I wake up

Lost elements

In all honesty I couldnt get to editing this in time, so I dont remember it all… this is what I scribbled down this morning. Sorry I can’t elaborate more.

Mom is taking me to school.

Jim is watching Sy.

We go shopping before going to school, and she yells at me in public over a nightgown I want to purchase. I find a skirt and really nice underwear, but cant buy it; I’m in a hury. I get home home with quarters that are moms.

I unroll all the rolls of quarters thinking its a good idea. I was gonna put them in a bag for her but, realize it’s not. We get back in the car and go for ride.

Coupe De Crash

It was a boring late summers night at home, and I needed to get out and do something. My brother wasn‚Äôt home, and my son was sleeping, but my ‚Äúbrothers car‚ÄĚ was here‚Ķ. a 1999 Saturn 2 door coupe, gold, and it was all mine to drive. (This isn‚Äôt his car in real life, nor anyone elses I know.) I snag the keys, lock the doors to the house, jump in the car, and wonder briefly if I should be doing this. My son is home alone, I don‚Äôt have a licence, the vehicle is uninspected (illegal¬†in NH to drive), I‚Äôm taking my brothers car without permission- but I Just. Don‚Äôt. Care.

I need the wind in my hair.

I need the possibility of the unexpected in front of me.

I need the chance to go out and do something for myself.

I need my autonomy.

I jump on the highway and head to Portsmouth for a chance to get away from it all. I had a sever desire to do some shopping to make myself feel better, so I hit up the mall. I leave with over-sized white shopping bags stuffed with clothes, and paper bags filled with various fragrances from multiple stores. I load them behind my seat and pull off heading south. I was feeling hungry, and decided to eyeball the various restaurants around.

The scenery changes, and none of the restaurants belonged to Portsmouth, but I still identified it as such- still being in Portsmouth. I veer off into a parking lot with some major food chain label against it and walk in. I decided I didn’t like the options on the menu and left. Back in the car.

I make my way back to the house and see if I can spot anything on the way back for food, but I ended up making a side trip. Before me is the less-than-thrilling 5th wheel porn shop, and I decide to head inside. Everything looks the same as it does in real life. The walls are a little more grey than white. The counter is to your left as soon as you walk in. Video’s and magazines beside it to the right. To the right of the entrance is the the toys and such. I look at a set of white fabric hand-cuffs with rope attached to it and longingly wish I had someone to try this out with, but I keep roaming around. I find myself making a full circle ’round the store and back at the front looking at the flavored lubes & condoms. Nothing terribly exciting. I leave and purchase nothing as I have no one to share it with.

As I exit and round the corner to my car, there’s a car that slipped gears and is rocking back and forth in neutral bumping gently and repetitiously against the front passenger door of my car with it’s front bumper. A peculiar site to behold. I get in my car and create a silent mantra in my head. Please don’t get pulled over by the cops. Please don’t get pulled over by the cops. Please dont.Low and behold I turn on the car, swerve it around to back out, and just as I do I get blinded by the headlights of a cop car pulling into the porn shop. I turn the wheel sharply to finish my reverse and pull out but the car stalls. The officer looks at me and beams a warm and inviting smile.

‚ÄúYeah, I use to have that same kinda car. Don‚Äôt cut the wheel so sharp and you‚Äôll be all set.‚ÄĚ

I smile politely at him and try to keep my cool. I finally straighten out and drive into the highway. I quickly come to a delima. The right side of the road has cars stopped that are bumper to bumper, but the left has zero traffic. I figured if I stay to the right and not move I might get pulled over because of the sticker on my car, so I head into the passing lane and watch as someone from the right does the same. I speed off into the night when suddenly a car comes at me head on. Rather then suffering any injuries or serious car damages,  the whole thing gets smacked and bumps backwards 10 feet as though I were in a bumper car. The car that hit me? A cop.


I accept defeat right then and there. He glares at me as he gets out of his car and I sit in mine, paralyzed as I rack through all the things he’s going to charge me for. I came to the conclusion of losing at least 32 points from my licence and possible jail time, but they don’t know about my son.  As I step out a few military personnel and  other law enforcement officers are on the scene, but they’re relaxed and side-tracked with their own assigned tasks. One military man greets me warmly. He’s in a beige uniform that has an army tailored look about it. Tan skin, dark eyes, amazing definition to his body…. I like the cut of his jib. Smoking hot. If this were school I’d give him an A+ for his smile alone! We start talking and I try to probe him about the consequences of my actions with the car accident, but he confesses he’s not knowledgeable in that field and cracks a few witty jokes. He’s not only sexy but funny too? Oh, I could like this a lot! We continue to talk and laugh but all the while my anxiety continues to spike higher and higher as I wait for the expected smack down by someone. Finally my anxiety plateaus in my throat as every hair on my body stands to attention.

I wake up. My breath is ragged, nerves are frayed, and sweat is starting to bathe my skin. 8am. Time to hit the morning. I shake it off and get the details of the dream down, deciding to attack it later…. and here I am with you.