OK, this every other day thing kind of stinks. I really have to do this every day. There’s a lot of shit going through my mind, enough for me to get lost in, so I’ve got to make it a point to sort it out.

I dreamt of [redacted] last night. It was a really detailed dream, pretty long. I only remember the middle part, really. I was having a drink with her at some dive. I assumed it was L.A., but more likely it was… some strange amalgam of L.A., Chicago, NYC, and Midgar City. So I realize it couldn’t have been real. Anyway, afterwards, I went to a poetry reading, and I remember wishing she’d be there, too, but apparently her agenda diverged from my mine. I can’t remember if I was reading, but I remember seeing people who recognized me. I was a writer, honest to god, and I don’t know what was the greater heartache upon waking: realizing that I might never see her again, or realizing that the path that I am taking does not seem to be leading to where I want to go. (Oh, but desire and duty are leading to opposite paths. Sometimes I feel like I am being drawn and quartered.)