1.
My dreams are my own again, only to have you strolling through them now. I don't know who you are, or where you'll come from, but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Though if history is anything to go by, it'll be weeks or months before we cross paths.
2.
The universe is not big on pats on the head, but every so often it does toss me a bone and say, Look. See? You were entirely right.
The destructive impulse in me wants to cause trouble out of spite, but I won't.
3.
I've always been fixated with duality. It's the single constant in my writing from the stories I concocted at 6 to the novel I'm working on now. Always two. Mirrors. Opposing. Complimentary.
It makes me wonder.
4.
Today is a restless day. I'm seeking something, but I don't know what it is. None of my usual distractions are working. I want gummy bears, but if I go to Morrison's I'll get cigarettes.
Still. One cigarette in three days. That's not bad. And getting them doesn't mean smoking them. Sometimes I just need to have things. Like diazepam. I haven't taken it in months, but I like having it. I know I can take it, if I want to, and that's the essential part right there. As long as I'm able to do something, I may or may not. More than likely I'll probably get around to it eventually. Maybe. But tell me it can't happen and all of my energy will be put into making sure it does.
See what I said about giving myself an inch?
But I really want gummy bears...
5.
I never remember that things close early on Sunday.
I never remember that it's Sunday.
6.
People want so badly to belong somewhere. A majority of the people who follow my interests are like that. That specific type of person who wants in so bad they go way overboard. Everything becomes about that one thing - a belief, a lifestyle, whatever. There's a fakeness to it that immediately turns me off, and I end up avoiding resources for things I'm otherwise inclined to just because I can't handle being around that type of person. Well. Being civil around that type of person.
Logically I can say they have some deficit in their life/identity that pushes them to over-identify with any group or organisation that offers them a sense of fulfillment and purpose, and that this is a normal human drive, and really I should take pity on them and just let them get on with whatever makes them happy because, ultimately, they aren't hurting anyone.
But they get in my way I have no patience for that.
7.
8.
I read it as fake because they whitewash the shadows. Not a hint of darkness. Everyone is good. Everyone is benevolent. Everyone is positive.
It's all bullshit. At the very least, there is an equal balance. More realistically, there's a constant state of flux because the universe isn't stagnant.
Everyone has darkness. Everyone has negativity. Everyone can and has/will be selfish. If you ignore your monsters, they will eat you.
9.
"Speaking to Ren is decoding a language no one else speaks."
10.
There is a brief moment when I first wake up when I can think clearly - one thought without the cacophony of all the other processes in full gear. If I lie quietly enough, I can drag this out for minutes, and this is when I do most of my writing. It's amazing how much you can do in five minutes when nothing else is jostling for attention.
I use sleep and sound to escape the noise in my head. Sleep is best - quietest - my dream self only ever thinks clearly, but I can't spend my life asleep so instead I surround myself with films, TV, music, anything so I don't have to focus on how much is happening inside my head.
11.
Dream: It's raining and I'm in Pittsburgh, but the bus station looks like Montparnasse. It's late so I can't call anyone, and I don't have anywhere to go. I think of S., but I can't remember the address.
(I think: it's on my driver's license. look at my driver's license but it doesn't change the plot.)
Riding in a cab after too long trying to remember which bus to take to vaguely where I think the house is, I realise I could text N, and wouldn't that be a surprise? But I know I'm not really in Pittsburgh, and I can't just go see him. I keep having the thought, though, because I see the city, I feel it. I try to get the address for S. again but to no effect and that's how I know dream me isn't me. I'm just a bystander here, watching the scene unfold.
I wake up still wanting to text N. and say: I'm here! Let's go play! and I have to remind myself I'm not home.
12.
What compels someone to open a curtain shop? Obviously, people buy curtains, but the individual who decides that is what their life's work will be. How does that thought process go?
From an early age, Garrett always had a passion for curtains...
13.
Some days I have to remind myself I don't have to answer to anyone. I can lay on my bed all day if I want. I can read a book. I can go out or stay in. It's all up to me. No one's going to come along and tell me to stop or that I should be doing something else, or whatever. I don't know who I actually think would do that, but very often I have the sense that any minute someone is going to come in and yell at me for being lazy or self-indulgent or too slow or just something.
I feel guilty for using my time the way I want.
I don't know where that comes from.
14.
I've been asked to write an afterword for "Between Universes".
What do I say about a story I wrote for(about) someone I no longer speak to?
My dreams are my own again, only to have you strolling through them now. I don't know who you are, or where you'll come from, but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Though if history is anything to go by, it'll be weeks or months before we cross paths.
2.
The universe is not big on pats on the head, but every so often it does toss me a bone and say, Look. See? You were entirely right.
The destructive impulse in me wants to cause trouble out of spite, but I won't.
3.
I've always been fixated with duality. It's the single constant in my writing from the stories I concocted at 6 to the novel I'm working on now. Always two. Mirrors. Opposing. Complimentary.
It makes me wonder.
4.
Today is a restless day. I'm seeking something, but I don't know what it is. None of my usual distractions are working. I want gummy bears, but if I go to Morrison's I'll get cigarettes.
Still. One cigarette in three days. That's not bad. And getting them doesn't mean smoking them. Sometimes I just need to have things. Like diazepam. I haven't taken it in months, but I like having it. I know I can take it, if I want to, and that's the essential part right there. As long as I'm able to do something, I may or may not. More than likely I'll probably get around to it eventually. Maybe. But tell me it can't happen and all of my energy will be put into making sure it does.
See what I said about giving myself an inch?
But I really want gummy bears...
5.
I never remember that things close early on Sunday.
I never remember that it's Sunday.
6.
People want so badly to belong somewhere. A majority of the people who follow my interests are like that. That specific type of person who wants in so bad they go way overboard. Everything becomes about that one thing - a belief, a lifestyle, whatever. There's a fakeness to it that immediately turns me off, and I end up avoiding resources for things I'm otherwise inclined to just because I can't handle being around that type of person. Well. Being civil around that type of person.
Logically I can say they have some deficit in their life/identity that pushes them to over-identify with any group or organisation that offers them a sense of fulfillment and purpose, and that this is a normal human drive, and really I should take pity on them and just let them get on with whatever makes them happy because, ultimately, they aren't hurting anyone.
But they get in my way I have no patience for that.
7.
8.
I read it as fake because they whitewash the shadows. Not a hint of darkness. Everyone is good. Everyone is benevolent. Everyone is positive.
It's all bullshit. At the very least, there is an equal balance. More realistically, there's a constant state of flux because the universe isn't stagnant.
Everyone has darkness. Everyone has negativity. Everyone can and has/will be selfish. If you ignore your monsters, they will eat you.
9.
"Speaking to Ren is decoding a language no one else speaks."
10.
There is a brief moment when I first wake up when I can think clearly - one thought without the cacophony of all the other processes in full gear. If I lie quietly enough, I can drag this out for minutes, and this is when I do most of my writing. It's amazing how much you can do in five minutes when nothing else is jostling for attention.
I use sleep and sound to escape the noise in my head. Sleep is best - quietest - my dream self only ever thinks clearly, but I can't spend my life asleep so instead I surround myself with films, TV, music, anything so I don't have to focus on how much is happening inside my head.
11.
Dream: It's raining and I'm in Pittsburgh, but the bus station looks like Montparnasse. It's late so I can't call anyone, and I don't have anywhere to go. I think of S., but I can't remember the address.
(I think: it's on my driver's license. look at my driver's license but it doesn't change the plot.)
Riding in a cab after too long trying to remember which bus to take to vaguely where I think the house is, I realise I could text N, and wouldn't that be a surprise? But I know I'm not really in Pittsburgh, and I can't just go see him. I keep having the thought, though, because I see the city, I feel it. I try to get the address for S. again but to no effect and that's how I know dream me isn't me. I'm just a bystander here, watching the scene unfold.
I wake up still wanting to text N. and say: I'm here! Let's go play! and I have to remind myself I'm not home.
12.
What compels someone to open a curtain shop? Obviously, people buy curtains, but the individual who decides that is what their life's work will be. How does that thought process go?
From an early age, Garrett always had a passion for curtains...
13.
Some days I have to remind myself I don't have to answer to anyone. I can lay on my bed all day if I want. I can read a book. I can go out or stay in. It's all up to me. No one's going to come along and tell me to stop or that I should be doing something else, or whatever. I don't know who I actually think would do that, but very often I have the sense that any minute someone is going to come in and yell at me for being lazy or self-indulgent or too slow or just something.
I feel guilty for using my time the way I want.
I don't know where that comes from.
14.
I've been asked to write an afterword for "Between Universes".
What do I say about a story I wrote for(about) someone I no longer speak to?
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