Well, at least I have nice dreams.

I did often have nightmares when I was a child. I only have a memory of one when I was six years old; it was such an unusual occurrence that I never forgot it. I only started having bad dreams in recent years. Last night I dreamt my son ran away from home and later... Continue Reading →

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Bukowskiing

One day last year I was in a bad mood, and reading Charles Bukowski's poems. Both factors combined like baking soda and vinegar, producing this high-school science fair-like mental gurgitation. I'm reposting it now because I'm awake, this one being the third night in a row I wake up right after the middle of the... Continue Reading →

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