Tuesday, 28 July 2015

New Years' Eve, 1982

And I remember how something could
break every word you spoke,
make you sound like you were
choking
as the heaters along the floor blew
your sheer polyester drapes in
an uneven ballet,
        suspended,
        mid-air.

Dream Journal, February 22, 2005


Was having terrible thoughts last night before I went to bed; felt like I was going crazy.  Had a very rough week.

I had a dream I was back in school, but with a teacher I really liked.  I loved the class so much that I was almost sad when it ended, I hadn't been watching the clock at all.  When I got out of school it was pitch black outside.  I had a long walk home and to get there I had to go down this short stretch of really dark street. It scared me so I started to walk very quickly.  There were trees and the sidewalk was narrow.  When I noticed shadowy people around me I stuck to the curb so that cars passing by would see me if anything happened.  I wondered why I hadn't gone the way home I normally did, that was better lit with crossing guards.  The problem was, I couldn't remember that route anymore; it also wasn't the most direct path.  Nor did it seem that much safer, because I thought I still had to walk down a dark block at some point.

I felt massively relieved when I got to the well-lit section of the street, but then I started hearing this ominous voice telling me how everyone was going to blame me.  No one would believe that he, the voice talking to me, was the one who had planned everything.  I couldn't see who was talking until I passed a man wearing a very scary mask and a robe.   I attacked him and fought him, managing to pull his mask off.  It turned out he was the head of the local Chamber of Commerce.  Once again he said no one would believe me.  As he went off I had this thought that he was going to be caught—that I would catch him on tape.  Seemed like it might be okay in the end.  


Monday, 27 July 2015

Knots


Diary, March 14, 2004

I don't like being tired.  In fact, I hate it.  I hate having these sleep disturbances - they terrify me.  I also detest knowing that for the next whole day I might feel like shit, and that I still won't sleep all that well the next night.  But this is all part of the game.  Every single process has some part of it that's detestable.  I can hardly expect this to be any different.

Sunday, 26 July 2015

Saturday, 25 July 2015

Letter from Steve, 1990


I never got a chance to finish reading the letter you sent me, but I think I got the general overall idea from the first couple paragraphs.  I can appreciate the fact that you worry about me - it really doesn't bother me that much, because I guess I expect it.  I have been kind of wild, but I think I'm starting to burn out a bit now.  My brain is feeling really spacey from doing a lot of harmful things to do it.  And I like being on top of things, so I'm going to have to lay off for a little bit.  Don't worry - I'll be all right.  I really will.  I guess I just have to find out certain things for myself - the school of hard knocks never goes out of session for some of us.

It was really good seeing you.  I know I look burned out, but you look really healthy.  Have you gained a little weight?  Not that you're fat, but you look more full - I don't know, even that sounds bad.  You know what I mean.