Well, I finally got some of those dreams that I've heard people talking about.
Yeah. I think I agree with some of the consensus I've seen other people have about their dreams. Mine suck. At least, the ones I had the other night certainly did.
In my dreams, I was in a foster home. Several of them, actually. Apparently, I bounced around a lot. Never really stayed in one place for long. As soon as I got comfortable, as soon as I thought I'd found a place I thought I could call home, I got shifted again. No one knew anything about me, either. Who my parents were, where I was born, even my name. In the orphanage that I kept getting sent back to, they called me Mary Sue Poots. Um...eew. I can see why I decided to go by Skye when I was older in my dreams. Not that that isn't so weird, as Skye is my middle name.
So yeah. Apparently, according to my dreams, my life as I know here is a lie. Good to know.