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False Awakenings, Psychic Elastic, Paranoia and Dreams.

7/7/15.

For the last few days, my sleeping, if you want to call it that, had come in a steady rhythm of violent spurts. I would close my eyes for twenty minutes, my eyes would pop back open in shock, and then I would close them again.

Eventually, I wake up to hear someone knocking on the door. I don’t really open my eyes; not much, anyway. As to who it might be, I vaguely recall something about maintenence stopping by, that I should be expecting them, but I’m too tired to remember or really give the vaguest semblance of a shit. So I just play dead.

I hear the door open and he comes in, and all the while I remain motionless. Just do what you have to do and go, I think. I keep my ears open, though. He makes some remark about the smoke in the apartment. “Somebody’s been partying in here,” were his words, I think. I have been asleep for hours, though, so that’s bullshit. I make no response, however, and just keep pretending like I’m sleeping, because even though he’s in my damn apartment, I simply do not feel like dealing with the guy. Then my eyes pop open. It comes to my attention that I’m not expecting maintenance, that no one had really come into the apartment. It had been yet another false awakening.

7/26/15: 3:05 AM:

I just felt as though my subtle form was pulled up out of my physical body for a moment or two, wiggled around for a bit, then let go to snap back into my bony, fleshy form, as if the two superimposed bodies were attached through some sort of psychic elastic.

I think I should take the opportunity to mention here, too, that I use certain words for lack of better ones, and certain alternative words (hallucinations, perhaps, for instance) lack the specificity I prefer. You have heard of phantom limbs that linger when physical limbs are lopped off of bodies? Well, this subtle body might be a sort of full-body analogue when consciousness becomes the (though in many cases only temporarily) amputated limb in question.

3:40 AM.

Now I got jolted by what sounded like something hit my window. I am high and mildly drunk. The window is open a little, the fan is on: perhaps someone slammed a car door and that’s all.

7/26/15, 2:30 PM.

It was like I was waking up before the dream was ready to end so it tried to rush to completion before it was forced to fade to black. For some reason the last few moments if the dream was more cartoonish than realistic, as I recall rest of the dream being (though I’ll be damned if I can remember anything else about it). A polar bear had been pushed off some mountain, and he slid to the bottom of it as if it were slipping down the side of a pyramid or something. It was like a slide. As he landed, he barely missed a guy resting on his belly at the bottom who had also been pushed off, or so it seemed. It was the actor that played a doctor on the television show House; he played the young character that committed suicide. I think I was thinking about his character at some point last night. He looks up at the bear, asks him if he’s a polar bear, and the polar bear looks at him and nods. Then I wake up.

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