Last night’s dream was so graphic and very emotional that I woke up with real tears flowing out from my closed eyes.
My brain was obviously having so much carnal thoughts that it had now created a realistic story using familiar characters (my High school classmates) to tell me that I should stop this insane desire I’ve been obsessing with. It was so pathetic to beg to be wanted. I did not deserve to be desperate.
On a positive side, though, there was at least something hopeful with this dream - my group of friends tried to help me, in a way as how they understood my problem, but they got it wrong since they didn’t (and wouldn’t) think I was longing for something absurd. That’s the part where I completely broke down and sobbed out my hurting soul. My salvation was realizing it wasn’t real as I regained consciousness and touched my face, wondering why my eyes were wet.
If I was still my old Catholic self, I would be taking a bath in holy water right now to wash away this sin.
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