Last night I dreamt that I was on some school campus, and was a part of some larger campus community. There was a girl who had just committed suicide, and perhaps I was nearby when it happened and I was hit with a stray piece of bullet, but I had a chest wound in this dream. I don't remember actually seeing the suicide though, so maybe it was just the general irrational work of dreaming that caused me to have this bleeding wound in my upper chest. I kept walking around, holding my shirt up to the wound to collect the blood, not really worried about myself physically but worried that other people might think I looked sloppy, what with blood staining my shirt and all.
    People were talking about the suicide, going on about how they didn't really see it coming. People were wondering why they hadn't noticed something had been amiss with her. Meanwhile I was walking around talking about this girl, and other things, with J.D., a real life unrequited love of mine (the complications of which triggered a major depression for me in 2006). In the dream, he was just a well-meaning friend. It was a really nice, easy friendship. Maybe the kind of friendship I wish we had been able to manage in real life.
    Later I was doing homework. A younger cousin of mine and a friend of hers were at the same table. I had asked my cousin if she would share some paper with me. She took two sheets of paper, folded them up, took scissors and cut them in half and tried to offer me one of the pieces. I took the other piece, and when I unfolded it it was a nice big piece of paper. The other piece of paper was very tiny. She had other paper, too, so I didn't understand why she was being so petty. She got upset at me for getting a piece of paper large enough for me to actually work with and she stomped off. I was very upset with her in the dream... and vented my frustrations at the friend who remained, and then there were other people around as well, and I explained to them that lately she had been really hateful to me. I told them as kids there was also still an awkwardness between the two of us, but not the hatefulness that there was now.
    Later I was standing around with some other girls. One in particular was talking to me. We hadn't seen each other in a long time, but we both had a good affinity for each other. The kind of friendship where you enjoy the times when you happen to be around each other, but there aren't many expectations other than that. She asked me if I "smoked," meaning smoked pot. I said yeah, but that I was trying not to do it that often lately. Then I understood that she meant she had some and was offering to smoke with me, so I said yes I would love to smoke some with her. It was a nice autumn day and the sun was shining. I felt safe and warm in my warm clothes, and felt relaxed about the promise of the marijuana. The dream ended there.