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A few days before Thanksgiving, I called Danny when my mom and aunt were gone (I was still gournded from the phone). Gotta love those calling cards! He told me that he had gotten a trailer from FEMA, but they still needed to hook up the plumbing and electricity. The trailer had a bunkbed type thing, a couch bed, a stove, and a microwave. I think that's it. But at least he didn't have to sleep in his mom's freezing car anymore.



Thanksgiving day, everyone was gone again so I called him around nine that morning. He said that some guys had already came that day and hooked up his electricity. I was so happy for him....now he still had to go somewhere else to get to a bathroom, but hey. Electricity rules! I really never loved electricity that much until I went through two weeks without it after the hurricane. I almost worship it now. Lol. I couldn't even take a hot bath....had to get a bowl of cold water and wash with a bath cloth and some soap. But enough about my experience, I may tell that later. Just always remember that you never know what you have until it's gone.

This is a dream I have about once a year ever since I was around 10 years old. I have no idea what it means, but it variates time after time.



I am in this huge mansion with many floors. I've never been able to count the actual number, but I guess it to be around four. At the top floor, there is a small landing by the stairs. On the landing, there are old, wooden double-doors opposite the stairs, and a small door on the left side of the wall. When I open the small door, inside I find the faint spirit of an old man. He always seems sad and is weeping silently. The room is small and closet-like. I look to the right wall of the room near the floor. There is a large, rectangular opening that contains another old man in a casket filled with red satin. He has short, white hair and very pale skin. Maybe this man is the spirit's body. Or it could be one of the spirit's family members or a friend. Whoever it is, the spirit seems to mourn him deeply. The strange thing is that I can see underneath the casket, as though it is suspended in mid-air, and far below him it seems to be the first floor. I can see a richly decorated church room, filled with many people in dark pews. But they are silent. The only sound I hear is the spirit's moans and wails of grief beside me.



I wake up very depressed every time I have this dream. On one or two occasions, I remember roaming the halls and stairways of this grand place. Every room I came to had a spirit, whether he or she be friendly or disturbingly angry. Some even floated amongst me on the red, carpeted stairs and halls. The whole mansion seemed alive with a chaotic presence from those entities, though none ever spoke to me nor to each other. It was almost as though I WAS one of them, damned to confinement in those eternal walls.