I’m fascinated by the idea of dreaming of myself sleeping. 

Sometimes I dream of exactly what’s happening in the real world while I’m asleep. I dream of a dark room. There’s a hat and a belt resting on a bench, a pair of pants in a heap at on the carpet, and your shoes next to my shoes. In the dream, while I sleep, your shoes lay still next to my shoes. The whole night through, they wait.

Written at 12:33 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA, while trying to remember how to write. I seem to have forgotten. But I won’t fret yet. I can still put one word next to another. The rest of the words are trash. But those two words, sometimes, are just where they’re meant to be. 

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