where are you?
2003-11-22 || 11:54 a.m.

Last night I drifted in and out of the strangest dreams. Some of them were story-like dreams but other bits were symbolic and strangely portentous.

The rain woke me at eight coming through the holes in my gutter.

Yesterday I planned on writing about the sermon on the mount. Everything you ever need to know is in there.

I want to exist on the edge of sleeping and waking, in that strange dream-like mist where you know everything and nothing at all.

In my dreams there were voices all around me. Voices from centuries ago talking about the plague and mothers and daughters and children who died. It was like the voices of everyone who ever lived, living all at once and I could hear them all.