All night I dreamed about dying. Every time—I was shot once, bleeding out; another time, I had some kind of wasting illness—I woke up instead of never opening my eyes again, but whenever I fell back into the dream, there was a different death to go through. Some of the circumstances, waterspouts, unmoored islands, shell-like crusts of uninhabited buildings in the middle of cities where I've lived, might have made intriguing story material if I hadn't been distracted by the endless iterations of mortality, none of them opera-clean. Today fails auspices.
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Active Entries
- 1: Fierce as the Baltic sea
- 2: For when the heart's a sinking stone
- 3: I want what's true
- 4: I've been with him for seven years and now I'll lose my situation
- 5: Reflections coming through the radio, the telephone, the TV
- 6: Afghanistan banana stand
- 7: 'Cause living it up, it's a big deal, it's good for you
- 8: Cars and trips and maps we ripped
- 9: And the clock ticks faster every year
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