Pronoun today:

They

Thoughts on the last few days:

This is year one. I was not alive to it. I didn’t even realize until late this afternoon. I’m building something for it, but it will not be done for a couple of days. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.

Dream:

I remember being inside of a memory, in a house with my “brother” (who I do not recognize, but narration tells me is my brother). I tell him that I’m a voyeur, and he offers to masturbate in front of me. I say no, he offers to have sex with his housemate (who is underage). I watch them fuck, along with another of his housemates, who starts making out with me. I hear this narration over the scene, which describes my brother as “a bit of a pedophile” while me and the girl I am kissing vote on which of the two men should get to come on the other. I jump back into the present tense, in my grandmother’s house, talking to my parents, wishing it were the 70s again. Later, I am on a motorcycle. I have a magical power: control over moving objects. I can go just as fast as I can think. I try to go faster and faster, then realize that there’s a limit to the speed I can actually imagine going. I can’t really go faster than I’ve actually experienced. I push and push, but I’m still just roughly keeping pace with the other cars on the highway. I push my imagination further, but I can’t quite outstrip them totally. I realize I’m in a dream. I start flying. I am flying over a lake, and realize that I can control the motion of other things, like a shark that I see underneath me. I make it rise out of the water and start riding it through the air. I lose control, the imagination required is too great for me, and we plunge into the water. The shark, angry with me, bites my calf. I try to fly out of the water, but I am distracted by the pain. I kick the shark away as it tries to attack me again. I cannot fly. I cannot swim. I have a gun. I load the gun with special bullets (that are enchanted to hit everything but me), and fire it into the water above me. The shark falls dead. I swim to the surface. I realize that the bullet has also murdered god. There’s a buckshot wound in the sky. It starts to rain blood.

Have You Been Saved?

I have not, no