{"id":804,"date":"2005-03-23T10:11:00","date_gmt":"2005-03-23T17:11:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/blog\/?p=804"},"modified":"2005-03-23T10:11:00","modified_gmt":"2005-03-23T17:11:00","slug":"804","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/?p=804","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

Last Night’s Dream<\/p>\n

<\/strong>I was in my high school, which was actually this large, multi-level building like a large mall rather than the flat shitspread that it actually is. There had been a serial killer loose there for a while, and I was the criminal-behavioral psychologist who had been profiling him. I had recently made public statements that the killer was a latent homosexual and most likely impotent, trying to rile him up and push him into making a mistake.<\/p>\n

I was hanging around the school, hoping to catch him lurking when I saw some people suddenly screaming and running. Knowing it was him and that he had been pushed into a killing spree in broad daylight, I tried to sneak into the area to try to catch a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, he saw me and started chasing me. We ran through the halls and up stairs and he was one level behind me. I knew that if I slowed down even a little bit, he’d catch me. He was a tall, lean guy in his 30’s, very wiry and fast (looked like that dude from Scissor Sisters but not flaming). So we’re running and I’m on the verge of getting away by faking him out and going down another staircase rather than up and creating distance between us, when for reasons I had no idea, I decided to stop running, even as my brain screamed, what the fuck are you doing?!? <\/em>
<\/em>
I stopped and turned around abruptly. He came running around the corner and stopped, looking kind of confused but nevertheless, thrilled with his good luck. He approached me menacingly.<\/p>\n

I said to him, “I know you’ve been watching me and the things I’ve said about you in the press. We’ve been playing a little cat and mouse game, haven’t we? But let’s be honest–you didn’t come here to kill me. You came here to fuck me.”<\/p>\n

And sure enough, there was that sexual tension sitting between us that was now out in the open and on the table and boom…he rips off his shirt and that man was ripped.<\/p>\n

So we’re back at my parents house, in my room, having sex, but rather than this being a sex dream, I’m in my head thinking…the impotence was a profiler bluff but the homosexuality was something I believed to be a part of his profile. And here I was having unprotected sex with him. So I asked him if he’d had unprotected sex with men and he said he’d been with two men. I asked him if he’d been tested and he said no. And I flipped out that I was at risk.<\/p>\n

Dawn was breaking and I knew I had to get him out of my house before my parents woke up so I walked him out, but when I came back in, I saw my mom wandering the hall in her pajamas. I could tell she was looking for me because she had probably looked into my room to check on me as a mom thing that she does and had seen that I wasn’t in my bed. I was also worried that she had noticed, um…stains on the sheets or something and would know what I had been up to.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Last Night’s Dream I was in my high school, which was actually this large, multi-level building like a large mall rather than the flat shitspread that it actually is. There had been a serial killer loose there for a while, and I was the criminal-behavioral psychologist who had been profiling him. I had recently made […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-804","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sbl5mn-804","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/804","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=804"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/804\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=804"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=804"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=804"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}