My life. What will I do? How will I survive? How can I be so aloof about my predicament? Yesterday, my therapist told me about the ‘cherished myth’ – the things we tell ourselves; the stories we create about ourselves. Have I built any sand-castles? I destroy all my artwork. Perhaps the two things are related.

I had a dream last night. The large window in the TV room where I could see wind and rain outside. I did notice in the distance, the road behind was bright and sunny. The racing horses carried a wagon. The wagon was followed by a single horse tied by the reins. This horse was in distress it seemed and eventually could not maintain the speed led by the fleet of horses ahead of the wagon. It fell to the ground and was being dragged along. What a horror to see this. I went to investigate and noticed a university in the vicinity. Two large identical dinosaur-like and turtle-like creatures passed me by. They might have been dangerous carnivores being domesticated or educated. Suddenly I was among a school of cute creatures, but I don’t remember much about this.

I continue to write poorly.