I like the night. It is dark, quiet, and mostly made up of nothing. My back hurts less when I am lying down. Unlike the day, there are no disappointments, fears, angers, or other irritations—because nothing is happening at night. The lights are off. The doors and windows are shut. Nobody else is here. This is as close as you can get to the land before time, the land before anything. The night can be nothing, if you let it. That is, until you start to dream or otherwise create something with your own mind on the black canvas of the night. Even then, you are not limited by the rules of reality that afflict the day. The day can only be so much. The night can choose to either be nothing or anything. The day can only be something, and that something just is what it is. In the night you can choose. If you’re sick of it all, you can rest in the nothingness. If you want something more, you can dream it up. I do start to miss the day eventually. I want it to be real. Even if I can’t choose, it’s worth giving up some freedom of choice just to be a part of the real thing, especially being with others who are real and not just figments. The best mornings or the ones when I have started to miss the day as much as I can and that’s right when I open my eyes to see the morning sun peeking in through the drapes.
Month: March 2021
Nighttime nothing
It’s when I get into the nighttime nothing that I can’t remember a single thing about the day and the things I planned nothing really means anything in the night unable to see in the dark dreaming up free dreams as many as you could ever want with no cost of admission and no need to make money to pay for them after the sun has set there’s a brief time when the mind starts to wonder if it will ever rise again and somehow thinking that it might not nothing is off-limits as if it were really your last night to live and nothing seems impossible but you have to hurry while this feeling lasts because as the sun starts to rise and the sky brightens you will be sure that there is another day to come.
Originally written on: March 8, 2021
Sleep all day
An extra pair of socks placed on the nightstand next to the plant to breathe clean air and not have to go all the way to the dresser to have warm feet not enough room on the nightstand for all the things I would need so I have to get out of bed or else I might sleep all day.
Originally written on: March 3, 2021
Two worlds
I want to have my cake and eat it too when I am feeling pain I don’t want it but when I am feeling pleasure I want it when I am feeling pain I want to get away from the world I want to step out of the cycle but I still can’t detach from the pleasure I believe there’s a different kind of pleasure from a non-worldly life but I am not yet wise enough to have tasted it and also because the world is what I know it is what I was born into and my upbringing shaped me in the cycle of pain and pleasure.
Originally written on: February 28, 2021
Worry
As much as I worry
There are still worries
That I haven’t worried about
And I worry
About that too
Originally written on: March 9, 2021
Out of place
A book fallen
From the shelf
Lying there
On the carpet
Looking
Out of place
I think I should
Get off the couch
Pick up the book
And place it back
On the shelf
With the other books
But then I think
I should leave it
Right where it is
Because that is
Where it is
For whatever reason
And the argument
Of order
To be in its supposed place
On the shelf
Does not necessarily
Win out
In my mind
Over the argument
To let things be
Just as they are
Originally written on: February 11, 2021
Gas tank belly
If I were an automobile
Parked in the garage at night
My brain would be the engine
And my belly would be the gas tank
And they would talk to each other
Through speaker wires
And the tank would say,
“Engine, wake up, I am full”
And the engine would say back
Nothing
Because the automobile is not on
And engines sleep deeply
When not running
So the tank would wake up the ignition
And say,
“Ignition, wake up the engine”
And so the ignition would turn
And the engine would roll over
And wipe the sleep out of its motor oil-crusted eyes
And say,
“Gas tank, what the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
And the tank would say,
“Yes, I know, I am sorry, but can we please go for a drive?”
And the engine would sigh and, already pulling out of the driveway, say,
“I told you not to drink so much at the station last night.”
Originally written on: February 2, 2021
What brings me joy
I was watching a movie about a jazz musician and there was a scene where he wins the role of piano player in a band that he admires. It made me think of my writing and how excited I would be to publish a best-seller. And then I compared that to the excitement I would feel if I were to make a lot of money from a more traditional job. I think I would be way more excited about the best-seller, which is an interesting perspective for how I’m spending my time. I spend a lot of my time working and not as much time writing. But if writing is truly what’s bringing me joy, then why am I not spending more time doing that?
Expensive restaurant
I dreamt that my mom wanted to eat at an expensive restaurant. I didn’t want to go because I knew I would be paying for it. We ended up going. It was my mom, one of my brothers, and myself. We sat down at a table covered in a white cloth in the middle of the room. The table had five chairs. We had started eating our bread when another woman and her son came to join our table. I was confused at first, but then assumed that it must be this way at fancy restaurants, where people sit together. Almost immediately, the woman pulled a crystal sphere out of her purse to display her wealth for us. She was explaining the type of mineral of which the sphere was made when her son made a comment about how she was always showing off. I agreed with him, out loud. The lady was offended. I didn’t care. My mom was embarrassed. We left the restaurant. The bill for the bread alone was twenty-five dollars.
Recorded in dream journal on: August 27, 2020
Wolves
I dreamt that I was back at our family home in the cul-de-sac at the end of Sumac Street. I was in the basement watching a movie with my friend. My dad got home from work and said he wanted to show me something. We walked through the sliding glass door in the basement, out into our one-acre backyard. We walked about fifty paces to a part of the yard near the trees that had been experiencing flooding. There was an irrigation system comprised of gates and a glass graduated cylinder that stuck into the ground and pulled up water. We were talking about it, when we heard a wild commotion in the forest on the other side of the yard. We turned, and through the trees, we could make out two buffalo being chased by a pack of white wolves. At first, it was nothing more than a marvel to behold, as one looks at something far away and not personally concerning. Until a few of the wolves noticed us and broke off from the pack, running into our yard. I immediately climbed up onto a stack of cinder blocks, stacked about six or seven feet high. My dad stayed on the ground, seemingly not worried. The wolves bared their fangs and barked and growled. One of them circled around my dad’s legs. He didn’t move. Most of them focused on me, jumping up on the sides of the stack of cinder blocks, and biting at my legs. I was very scared, and that was the end of the dream.
Recorded in dream journal on: August 20, 2020
Self-conscious but in charge
I dreamt that my teeth fell out last night. I spit a handful of molars into my hand.
I don’t think I am as worried about my appearance as I have been in the past. As I get older, I’m more concerned about my actual health, rather than just how I appear. I also have a girlfriend, so I’m not trying to impress other women.
Still, I think this is a sign of self-consciousness. Maybe it’s because I’m going to the hotel in Napa with K and her friends next month, and I haven’t gotten my hair cut.
I also dreamt of being in charge. I dreamt that I was in a board room. People were presenting to me and I was correcting them.
Recorded in dream journal on: July 17, 2020
Memory loss
I dreamt I lost my memory, from the 24th to the 7th; I can’t remember which months. Maybe from May 24th to June 7th. The dream was mostly in the context of work and high school. It was very emotional. When I realized on the 7th that I had lost my memory, I kept it to myself at first. Then I pulled my boss aside and I broke down. In the back of my mind, I thought it was because I had a brain tumor. This has always been a fear of mine.
Originally posted in dream journal on: July 23, 2020
Veggie monsters
I dreamt we were at a house in the country. We slept on a cot in the garden, K and I. My hand dangled over the side of the cot, and something nibbled on my finger. At first, it was non-threatening. Then, a larger creature, made mostly of zucchini, started to attack with garden tools like a shovel and an ax. Then it became more serious. The vegetable monsters proved very difficult to kill. We killed one and then fled into the house. There were others with us. We locked all the doors. More vegetable monsters had gathered around the house at this point.
Recorded in dream journal on:July 23, 2020
Swimming
A lot of progress in circles, swimming deeper, like a corkscrew. Sometimes circling several times on the same level, not really learning the lesson. Some circles are wide and lazy, without any real need to proceed deeper with haste. Other circles are tight and almost slanted before even one full revolution is complete, nose-diving for the bottom in this way. The ocean is deep, and there may or may not be treasure on the ocean floor where you land. You may also choose to swim wider circles at the same depth, or to swim the same circle over and over, content just to be swimming.
Originally written on: September 3, 2020
A still moment
In the middle of my exercises, in plank pose, I notice there are no noises and no movements around me. In an uncanny moment, it feels as if time has stopped. It occurs to me that if I could check my watch face, then I could see if it were really true. But the face of my watch on my wrist just so happens to be pointed away from my field of vision. I cannot move my wrist or my eyes, because doing so would ruin the still moment. It is a conundrum. I cannot confirm for sure that time has stopped.
Originally written on: August 27, 2020
To avoid restarting
I stay longer than I should. Shaping myself into my surroundings. Gathering what was once useful but will soon weigh me down. Holding onto the life I have, unwilling to risk it for what may be. I dig myself deeper and deeper until I can no longer move. Leave me buried here. I am happy.
Originally written on: August 27, 2020
Astronaut flowers
On the ledge in our apartment, a plant grows with hanging vines and thick, rubbery green leaves the size of quarters. We have had the plant for more than a year, ever since we brought it home from the store last summer. To our surprise, the plant started to grow purple things that looked to me like long teacups. Then, from the teacups, came forth red flowers that looked to me like dragon mouths. Ten or twelve of the these red dragon mouths grew from the ends of the lowest hanging vines, then, not more than two weeks later, the red flowers started to fall. We picked them up and put them on the window sill, not wanting to get rid of their red beauty. Sitting at the dining table, I realized what was happening. I could be wrong; I am just guessing. But it seemed that the flowers likely contained the seed of the plant. They were being sent forth to find fertile soil and grow a whole plant anew. I was sad then, because all the seeds had failed to find fertile soil. It made me think of our human race, and how we might one day send astronauts deep into space on a colonizing mission from which there is no hope of return. Such was the fate of these flowers. They were sent forth, with no hope of return, to find fertile soil and spawn a plant family anew, or else never know plant kin again. The rubbery red dragon flowers did not know that they would find only hardwood floor, and die alone.
Originally written on: August 23, 2020
Shower thoughts
I sit on the edge of the bath tub with my elbows on my knees. My spine bends like a cattail in the wind. My head sags like a water droplet just barely hanging on to the underside of a wood railing in the rain. The whole world tips up on its side, and almost falls over completely, crashing into black, as the blood rushes into my head. One elbow slips from my knee and the cattail bends deeper at the waist as the water droplet has almost too much mass to hold on. My head spills out like a bucket into the bath water.
Originally written on: September 14, 2020
11/11/20
As our plane ascends into the sky above the clouds, I am reminded of the heights achieved by man. Not one man, but many. One can only play his part. He cannot hope to achieve the whole of it on his own. Man is necessarily a social animal. They say, “If you want to go fast, to alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I am growing to understand this. My girlfriend is teaching me emotional intelligence. I cannot think only of myself. “To whom much has been given, much is expected.” I would be happy working for the good of others, and not just for myself.
Originally written on: November 11, 2020
Boat lights
Outside of the plane window, the boat lights in the dark night dot the ocean below, just like the stars in the sky above. I think for a second we may be flying upside down. I consider whether we will still get there, flying such, and it seems, to the best of my measurements, that it will make no difference. There is also the fact of gravity, and my being seated, to suggest that those are not stars below. What then? I know only stars to dot the dark void in this way, and they have always been above me. Ah! They are boats. I realize, as what I see is crammed into what I know. Though I would have been perfectly happy to accept that we were flying upside down.
Originally written on: November 16, 2020
Damn editing
I really touch it light like, afraid to overwhelm the original with too may edits. Like coming into a museum and looking upon the work of another, I wouldn’t dare step over the partition and reach inside the glass container, ignoring the “Do Not Touch” signs. The piece is beautiful for my eyes as it is, and there is nothing more for me to add by putting my hands on it. I have as much respect for my former self as the artist. I come now as the editor to do the necessary evil. It is my own, even the mistakes, and that is what makes it art, I believe. Everything that happens afterwards, with editing especially, is a derivation of the original. I am thinking of rules and the opinions of others when I edit. I am no longer thinking of the source of inspiration, which can only once be passed through the lens of my perception and, in that moment, recorded.
Originally written on: December 13, 2020
Toilet bowl water
The toilet bowl water looks a little different to me tonight, in the glow of the nightlight. Not in the bowl, obviously. It’s not big enough for one thing, and it’s also a toilet after all. But something about how the light shined on the water just right, showing dark narrow lines where the ripples cast cutting shadows down from the surface to the porcelain not far below. These lines danced in a way that gave the words blue and aqueous new meanings in my mind. It was the type of water that should have a beautiful woman swimming in it. I wanted to be swimming, myself, in that moment. I have never before seen toilet bowl water that looked so nice and inviting.
Rules
I know the rules. I have learned them just like you. But I still wish it were not so taboo for us to break them, at least every once in a while. For example, topics that are not appropriate for everyday conversation. But why not? I would bet that there is not a single person alive who follows every single rule. People pick and choose which ones they prefer to break. Some choose just a few. Some choose lots. Some choose ones that not many others have chosen, and for these people I believe it is the worst. We associate with others who have chosen to break the same rules that we have. Rules go in and out of fashion. There are certain rules that very few chose to break in the past, and now everyone is breaking those rules. And there are also rules, by which most abide now, that didn’t even exist before. There is something I read in an Eastern text recently. I cannot remember it exactly. It was something like “nothing real changes.” Well, rules change. I don’t think they’re real. So if I break a rule, and you tell me not to, and I ask you why, and you can’t give me a good answer, then I am probably going to scoff and go right on ahead. Unless the punishment is severe enough, then I will listen to your answer, and agree with you emphatically, and wait for you to turn your back and walk away, and then, once you are gone, then I will go right on ahead.
Angels and demons
God I got scared last night which makes no sense this morning with all the lights on drinking coffee excited to see all of the details of the room and listen to music later I can’t listen to lyrics when I write but like to listen in the early afternoon once I’m done anyway last night I was lying there in bed and woke up feeling a pulsing in my feet I couldn’t decide if it was just my blood pumping because of the way that I had my legs crossed or if there was a little demon standing there at the bottom of the bed squeezing my toes with its claws I couldn’t see in the dark and even if the lights were on I don’t know if I would have had the courage to lean up and look I just lay there going back and forth in my mind trying to find any reasonable explanation at all for what it could be other than a demon down there the most uncanny part as I write this morning is how nonsensical it seems during the day with the lights on to have been so scared as I was but something about the non-physical dream world changes your perception of reality and the angels and the demons have all the power over you in that other world.
Anxiety
What must anxiety do without making me do something or else just worrying and having learned that the worrying itself takes energy too and so might as well take that energy and do something about it to solve for the anxiety that will suck up the energy anyway and this may be why I tell her I don’t want to be happy because it is the anxiety and the dissatisfaction and needing more which all together make me feel like I don’t have enough right now but she tells me feeling like I have enough is the key to happiness but I don’t want to feel that way I say and if having enough is what will make it so then I want to keep wanting more and can’t stop myself at least not now while I’m young and full of it but maybe later on.