29
I wake to the sense I’m sitting up, like I’m shearing free of my physical self, but it doesn’t want to let me go. When I was a kid, I read a lot about parapsychology, about the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it, leaving the body during sleep. There were a few times I thought this happened – once, floating next to the ceiling; another time, being propelled toward the wall; and multiple times like my physical body was reverberating. I’ve also repeatedly felt what I’m going through now, like I’m trying to tear myself out of an adhesive cradle, but as much as the possibility exhilarates…
27
I lay awake in bed, the ringing in my ears loud, the restlessness pulsing in my body. There’s no sleepiness. I am tired, coming off little sleep, the weight of the day fueling my exhaustion, but sleep’s something that washes off my body, leaving now just this: the early morning dissonance. The thoughts that flit through my mind are disordered. I think about the story for a screenplay I’m reworking, and then another screenplay that I’m meant to rework; the revision for my sci-fi novel, and the struggle to reshape it; the book I desperately want to write; and then, memories of my best friend, and my ex, both jostling…