Last night, feeling sadder than hell about a few things, and missing my friend, and not being able to sleep, and so on— I took a Herculean swig of NyQuil and collapsed in my bed. I had dozens of surreal fever dreams, some of them pleasant but mostly bad. When I awoke this afternoon, some 12 or 13 hours later, I had a feeling of unreality that persisted for most of the day.

Said I to Laura, as the long dark dream bled on:


At some point I did a thing I sometimes do, which is to look in the mirror. I saw that I had somehow scratched my own face with my fingernails in my sleep. They were light grazes, but for all intents and purposes I looked something like this:

How did this happen? I wonder. It must have been the NyQuil nightmares that had me flailing around.

Well! It’s back to skullcap and passion flower capsules for me. I don’t dig on NyQuil. It’s too powerful. It’s bad craziness is what it is. I still miss my friend though, and god knows I can’t sleep.