I don’t know whether I’m better off than I was.
I couldn’t write anything then. I mean, I could write, but it was all shit and everything kind of felt stale and fake. It was just waiting to be erased because I was just practicing.
It doesn’t feel like practice anymore.
I’ve been writing snippets.
I’ve been daydreaming.
Weird fucking daydreams that are ruining my reality. At night I only have the reoccurring dream/nightmare of the Man in the Long Coat being swallowed by the [redacted] in the [redacted].
During the day it is almost like all the weird shit I used to dream about at night tries to break through
because it cannot work itself out while I’m asleep.
Like... I used to dream of cats a lot. Cats doing dumb stuff and being adorable and whatnot.
YEAH I KNOW, CATS. Embarrassing.
Whatever, get over it.
Now I am daydreaming of cats instead. At first I thought, oh, there is a cute cat over there, and I’d walk to wherever the fuck it was to try and coax the cat out.
First few times was like, kind of a bummer, but no big deal. Cats run off. But now I’m seeing them in the office.
Out of the corner of my eye.
I’ve seen my old cat, Tiger.
He died 10 years ago.
It isn’t just cats, either. It is weird shit that you don’t think twice about when you’re in a dream.
A third eye on my manager’s forehead.
Oh, no worries, that’s normal. Until she turns around and walks off and I actually think about how cool it must be to be able to see the world with such open perspective. And then it dawns on me that I saw her with a third eye. And then she doesn’t have one. I’m beginning to question whether I’m actually typing this on a laptop or like.. who knows what the fuck.
Where am I, even?
I see weird shit in my mind’s eye so frequently. And it is so realistic (though the things I see are impossible) that I forget I’m not actually seeing them in reality.
Have you ever been startled that you are not where you had been daydreaming of?
You snap back to where you really are and notice you’ve missed whatever was going on around you because you were
blinded by your imagination?
Well, I’ve been doing that a lot lately, too.
I know you can’t see it but I’m cringing and grinning. It is a weird combination.
I know I look odd right now. I know these dark circles under my eyes are just getting darker.
I know I look unkempt. But I’m finally writing
– and for that I am grateful. I’m finally seeing things to write. I’m finally spinning away from the grips of the mundane.
Those greedy hands that want to keep me down.
Hands that want to grab me. Actually I have more to say on that...
The hands that want to grab me.
What if they are real?
I felt it as soon as I woke up that first time. It was like a part of the dream came back with me,
piggybacked onto my unconscious and now it lurks behind me.
This is a lot of information.
I’ve told you a bunch of shit and I know I sound nuts. I seriously don’t care right now. I am much more worried about the sensation of being watched, even when I’m completely alone at home, like I am right now.
I can feel it as I type.
I’m looking over the edge of my laptop monitor. The laptop is on my lap. I am staring at the wall across the room.
There is a spot between the TV and the framed poster where the watching is coming from.
I’m going to test something out... brb.
I just went to make some herbal tea. It was behind me the whole time.
It got really close.
The teabag also turned into a miniature lantern at one point when I dunked it, but daydreams are weird, so whatever, ignore that.
But the presence. It was definitely there. When I was walking back in here to come back to type, it felt closer and there was more urgency.
It was on my heels,
swiping at me.
Those greedy hands...
Sorry if this has all been incoherent.
I think I need to sleep. I know I’ll see the Man in the Long Coat again.