Dream Journal: Missing Everything

Unpleasant dream. Break.I don’t remember much of it any more. I woke up, and I wrote it down. I wrote down that I lost two people in my life – pretty sure they were both dead. And I remember keenly one of those deaths was black, one of them was red; that one death was the loss of someone I kinda didn’t mind, but I also felt dreadful about that. The other death was – I think it might have been Fox? I don’t know. I still feel like the other one of them was my father.

I remember the distinct feeling of walking through parts of my life, dealing with people spouting sympathy and suggesting things I could do about it. And they always just spoke and brought back those two colours, the red and the black, the hollowness and the pain. I didn’t know what to say. I’d open my mouth and scribbles fell out of it.

I felt miserable.

I woke up.

I felt miserable.

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