My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I do really want a pony.

So, I had a bad dream and woke up at five am, and I wouldn’t risk going back to it. For way too many years I’ve had two regularly recurring “dreams,” the kids call them, “the subconscious taking you downtown to Chinatown.” In one, something about my computer doesn’t work, my vent stops working. It’s dark, I can’t breathe, and I’m totally alone. I wake up scared. I also often just wake up scared, but that’s not really a dream. Anyway, in the second (and worst), there’s someone I love, I tell her so, and that I want be with her, always… and… it doesn’t work out, she leaves. Always. It’s basically just a replay of something that actually happened. I wake up missing her like it happened yesterday. I feel this astonishing sense of loss, and a cold, bottomless loneliness. It takes hours to feel kind of okay. That’s what woke me at five am, I was done with sleep.

Losing her the first time was worse than dying (which I’ve done), but losing her again and again… All I ever wanted was to be with her, I still do. It’s so stupid, like wanting a pony.

So, we’re now running WordPress 3.9.2, which is at least A LITTLE closer to 4.0, but it’s just a dull maintenance release, nothing fancy.

More tomorrow.

Fuck everything.

So, today was dull. I watched a not-too-awful horror movie, Oculus, it’s about AN EVIL FUCKING MIRROR… It’s really a gorgeous mirror, antiquey, but, yes, TOTALLY FUCKING EVIL. Still, I would hang it, anything to class-up my room.

Okay, tomorrow, I guarantee a solid post. Really.

I didn’t write early enough, and I’m exhausted.

So, I’m obviously trying to write every day, trying to get past nonsense to actual writing. I’m trying, I’m not going to give up.

I’m tired, I didn’t sleep so great last night, bad dreams. I have to start writing earlier, so I’m not rushing to type, or think, or type and think. It doesn’t help anything.

Today was slow, really slow.

Right now, I’m watching Hard Candy, in honor of my friend, Celeste’s, birthday. It’s kind of our movie. It’s one of those movies with no middle-ground, you either think it’s fucking awesome, or you’re totally mortified. Celeste and I weren’t mortified. البلاك جاك

Happy birthday, Celeste!

So, WordPress is kind enough to track the search terms used to find my blog. Lots of people find me searching about tattoos, or song lyrics, or tattoos involving song lyrics. Some of the searches are really bizarre, the weirdest (so far) involved having intimate relations with a “trach hole.” Whoever you are that searched that, I think you should schedule appointments with several kinds of doctors. Generally, though, people are searching for me directly, because of the This American Life episode. People search, and find me. Finding me looks pretty straightforward, but… one search caught my eye…

“is mike phillips from this american life alive”

Yes, as of July 30th, 2014, I am pretty much, alive. Thank you for your search, whoever, I will let you know (but not really, if you think about it) of any changes regarding my living.

Watch this space.

So… I hate staring at the blank white page with no idea what to write, other than writing that I hate staring at the blank white page with no idea what to write. Still, it’s something.

I’m tired today, my brain is tired. I feel like Bilbo, thin, like butter spread over too much bread. I’ve felt like this before, probably written so before, but it’s never been this thin, this worn. You know, it’s this house, it’s my trach (the little plastic tube in my throat), it’s life,  it’s wanting to be close to someone who’s far-away.