Feb. 23rd, 2005

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I dreamt last night that my brother died.

In reality, my brother is just an idea, a theoretical person somewhere in Oklahoma or Arkansas, of unknown age, appearance, and name. In the dream, he was about ten years old, with thick ash blonde curls, and he came to my mother begging for something, help of some kind. My mother has not and would not turn her back on my half-siblings, and has been there to help them out in the past, but in the dream she turned her face away from him and he died.

Also, I dreamt of using layers to fix the date problem I'm having in [livejournal.com profile] shifu (my booklog). I don't know if it's a legitimate solution to a problem that has been bugging me a lot, or if this is another instance of my feverish mind throwing puzzle dreams at me when I'm sick.

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mokie_edom

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