i’ve reached the stage in my life when i cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME differentiate between dream and reality in certain situations. i have been walking around all morning with a pressing weight on my shoulders, as if i have some unfinished business, or am in the throes of an unresolved conflict. there is something niggling at me that i just can’t quite place. i searched my brain for all possible causes of said niggle.
dreams and reality are seriously bleeding into each other: i know that gene hackman slicing off a sleeping man’s right testicle was a dream (at least i hope it was), but was the conversation about cutting a new line into my hand to create a new dimension of meaning (in palmistry speak) real? i have a cut on my hand, but that doesn’t mean anything. it could simply be the trigger of the dream. did i even have a conversation about palmistry last night? i think i did. my dream terrain is already plenty rocky without the aid of alcohol. my mind is a minefield of confusion and this shit is about to blow. someone get me a contract to write “Transformers 3”, stat. i am on a roll.
ow, my head.