The other night, maybe the last night I got more than three or four hours of sleep, whenever that was, I had a vivid dream of riding on top of a train. I was sitting crosslegged and someone else, though I don’t know who because I never turned around to see their face, was crouched behind me. We were having a conversation about something and riding along. In the sky I saw two massive flaming red meteorites shoot through the sky, one after the other, and slam into a forest a few miles away. In my dream I knew it was the end of the world but I didn’t feel sad about it. The stranger behind me asked me what I would have wanted before the end, which was imminent, and I said, “One good final breakfast,” and then the dream ended and I woke up covered in sweat.

I have been waking up covered in sweat the whole last week. And although I’m sweaty I’m also freezing under my blankets. I reckon it’s because I’ve only been having stress dreams. I dreamed about being at funeral, and sometimes I dream about this girl I miss . . .

I’ll tell you what: I sure could go for any good news at all. What’s going on? I don’t want much of anything. I’m not greedy or selfish. I guess I just wish I’d stop getting steamrolled every day. I don’t think that is asking so much. I cannot keep living as vessel for misery is all. It is the opposite of what I want for myself and I just can’t get out from under it. I try to put good things out there but often it feels like chucking it into a black hole. Is this an ancestral curse or something? Maybe I’m just unlucky in that way.