Dreams
November 14, 2022
Maybe one day we’ll reach a point when all possible frequencies have been recorded, every combination of words written.
Hallucinator
Interstate Scene 14: “He thought it was a Civil War ghost,” she said. “But I didn’t start believing in ghosts until a few weeks ago.”
Pictures from a Bad Dream
This morning I fed a robot a few sentences from the novel I’m writing, and it generated some startlingly accurate pictures.
Black Walls
We spent a week shivering in a damp atrium with rain dripping down the sides. We called it the Tarkovsky Box.
Train Dreams
London. Record-breaking wind swept across England yesterday, closing bridges, train lines, and attractions.
Dream Language
Ohio. Temperatures in the thirties and everything is coated grey. I woke up wondering if I would live my life any differently if I measured my age in days or hours instead of years.
So Much Noise
Sunset: 6:20pm. A first-quarter moon. A high of 72 and another humid night that feels like the wrong season.
Spirit
In the beginning, God was only “a permanently existing ghost.”
Deer
I’m not sure if I believe in symbols or signs, but today gave me plenty to decipher.
Decay
Lately my dreams have been all garble and grime without symbolism or plot.
Vivid
A world without the color green. A man who repainted all the seashells on the beach.
Toll
Sometimes I dream about tollbooth operators, the half-glimpsed faces with cigarettes on their lips, their left hands forever clutching a quarter and a dime in change.