Not even when I was sleeping. This morning is different. I am dreaming of our realtor. I don’t know if it is a product of having a split-brain or so...e other anomaly, but when I dream, I often seriously think about real-world things.In my dream, I am sitting at my desk, and the song Faith by George Michael is playing. In walks Sorrel. She spins my chair, so I am facing her, and she starts dancing to it. She ends up doing a lap dance/striptease. My head is so fucked up that I start thinking about. She was not going to let himkick her out of her house. She was not going to let him take away allthat money from her bank account.She started to tear him a new asshole."Listen here you sissy faggot. I was being nice for you were a littlemad about how our relationship is going to be from now on. Guess what, Iam done being nice. You want to see cruel, you little bitch, just wait.I am going to have you do so many demeaning things until you finallyaccept that the only reason I have to be nice to. More

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