Last Consecutive Post / News, Un-News, and The World Of Dreams
I promise, I swear, I pledge that I will not post again until somebody else posts. However, this is a post that is time-sensitive and important, so here goes.
Regarding Kelsea : Carl broke up with his long-term girlfriend yesterday morning. He spent the whole day with his male friends (me, Gary and Reynold), and the "get-over-it" chorus took part in the male tradition of taking pot-shots at the ex. Carl sat by the wayside, occasionally muttering something about "feeling sorry for hurting her".
Then, this morning, un-news was delivered. The two of them are back together, because she told him everything he had been wanting to hear for the last six months; in essence, she proved that she had been listening all this time, and that she payed, at least, marginal attention to his desires. After hearing the news, I promptly went back to sleep.
Then the world of dreams swept over me. All night, I had strange dreams, a mixture of socializing and sexuality. Carl was the first person to interrupt my dreams, Reynold the second, and Bridget the third. The dreams I had between Reynold and Bridget, though, have given me my second wind.
I'll lay it all out here: Suite 3100 is a place which, at its best, does not believe in any form of censorship (or, often, tact). However, throughout the history of Suite 3100, a fair amount of punches have been held regarding Kelsea. Her stranglehold on conversations about her has been so intimidating, that I have all but given up writing about her and her happenings. In the end, it was only because whenever I spoke of her, Carl would get in trouble. Even though I only wrote one post that had anything to do with her, I always wanted to write something, directly addressing her, calling her out on all of her shortcomings.
I don't need that anymore. A single day of pot-shots is enough. My soul is cleansed. Back to that dream I had this morning: I was at some sort of water park with half of everybody I know. Carl was there, Kelsea, Bridget, Reynold, Maggie, and a ton of glancing acquaintances from Wash U. Everybody was having a good time, etc etc. I found a red rubber playground ball, and I turned to face Carl and Kelsea. I threw it at her, expecting her to catch it, and it hit her. I ducked below the water to hide from the wrath, the fire-breathing, the nuclear blast... but it never came. I looked up from my watery grave to see Kelsea, looking down at me. She (this is weird dream stuff here) was wearing a full-body space suit, that was somehow also a swimsuit. It looked quite fetching on her.
Anyway, she reached a hand below the water, took my hand, and helped me up. She asked me if I was okay. And then Bridget called me and I woke up.
I don't think in the straightest lines, sometimes, but I'll tell you what I've taken from this dream. She deserves a second change, from me, and from anybody else who might knock her. I realize, if there was anyone she might convince, it was Carl, so it's not exactly telling that Carl has accepted her back. But, in my dreams, I saw a Kelsea that I had never seen before. All I really need is to know that, somewhere in the universe, there exists an iteration of Kelsea that I find palatable. Somehow, in my mind, I have come to believe that she may, somehow, become someone who can be satisfied, who can satisfy Carl, and who can live in harmony with his pantheon of friends and family.
You have my faith and support, Kelsea. I think you can do it.
-Alan
Regarding Kelsea : Carl broke up with his long-term girlfriend yesterday morning. He spent the whole day with his male friends (me, Gary and Reynold), and the "get-over-it" chorus took part in the male tradition of taking pot-shots at the ex. Carl sat by the wayside, occasionally muttering something about "feeling sorry for hurting her".
Then, this morning, un-news was delivered. The two of them are back together, because she told him everything he had been wanting to hear for the last six months; in essence, she proved that she had been listening all this time, and that she payed, at least, marginal attention to his desires. After hearing the news, I promptly went back to sleep.
Then the world of dreams swept over me. All night, I had strange dreams, a mixture of socializing and sexuality. Carl was the first person to interrupt my dreams, Reynold the second, and Bridget the third. The dreams I had between Reynold and Bridget, though, have given me my second wind.
I'll lay it all out here: Suite 3100 is a place which, at its best, does not believe in any form of censorship (or, often, tact). However, throughout the history of Suite 3100, a fair amount of punches have been held regarding Kelsea. Her stranglehold on conversations about her has been so intimidating, that I have all but given up writing about her and her happenings. In the end, it was only because whenever I spoke of her, Carl would get in trouble. Even though I only wrote one post that had anything to do with her, I always wanted to write something, directly addressing her, calling her out on all of her shortcomings.
I don't need that anymore. A single day of pot-shots is enough. My soul is cleansed. Back to that dream I had this morning: I was at some sort of water park with half of everybody I know. Carl was there, Kelsea, Bridget, Reynold, Maggie, and a ton of glancing acquaintances from Wash U. Everybody was having a good time, etc etc. I found a red rubber playground ball, and I turned to face Carl and Kelsea. I threw it at her, expecting her to catch it, and it hit her. I ducked below the water to hide from the wrath, the fire-breathing, the nuclear blast... but it never came. I looked up from my watery grave to see Kelsea, looking down at me. She (this is weird dream stuff here) was wearing a full-body space suit, that was somehow also a swimsuit. It looked quite fetching on her.
Anyway, she reached a hand below the water, took my hand, and helped me up. She asked me if I was okay. And then Bridget called me and I woke up.
I don't think in the straightest lines, sometimes, but I'll tell you what I've taken from this dream. She deserves a second change, from me, and from anybody else who might knock her. I realize, if there was anyone she might convince, it was Carl, so it's not exactly telling that Carl has accepted her back. But, in my dreams, I saw a Kelsea that I had never seen before. All I really need is to know that, somewhere in the universe, there exists an iteration of Kelsea that I find palatable. Somehow, in my mind, I have come to believe that she may, somehow, become someone who can be satisfied, who can satisfy Carl, and who can live in harmony with his pantheon of friends and family.
You have my faith and support, Kelsea. I think you can do it.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 3:13 PM
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