I had that dream again last night.
Posted on January 7, 2007
Filed under Scraps for Mending
I woke up with what felt like a boulder in my chest because I really thought I did it this time. I went into the bathroom and turned the light on hoping it would blind me into reality, but it only assaulted me into further confusion. After splashing water on my face and neck, I sat on the floor, grimy from laziness and ambivalence.
What kind of person has recurring dreams about killing all of his friends? The slumberous massacre I committ each night was beyond what I have read about or seen in slasher movies. These images are coming from somewhere else. They are coming from me. I am creating these deaths.
If I can get out of bed in the morning (I am averaging two or three hours of sleep at this point), I stop for breakfast before coming in late to work. For the past three months I have wanted to ask the girl who makes my coffee every morning on a date. I think I have the balls to do it today, but as soon as I open my mouth, I imagine what it would be like if she was at the end of a stainless steel long-reach machete. “Thank you,” I mutter as I leave, embarrassed and unsettled. It’s pathetic. And I am sure that after this interaction, I will have a sleepless night again.
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