well...

that's my worst nightmare! i hear that often. people talking on the bus. people laughing privately together. i overhear talk of nightmares. it's odd. worst nightmares have eight legs. are razor sharp. they have big teeth and hidden clauses. all rational in part. what we think we are afraid of.

i wake up cursing, terrified of a mason jar (i'm fictionalizing. have never dreamt of mason jars. let's pretend). a run that has no finish. sand. a box of foxes. luncheon meat. a train without rails. little boys who are silent. an unraveled string. grass blowing under a wind. the old fashioned hat. what we don't know we know we are afraid of.

i suppose people also actually dream of their worst nightmare. dunno. dunno.

tonight's walk featured nightcrawlers. raw rasping in darkness. i always think they are leaving the saturated soil for the less wet. it's very scientific, what i think. (indignant throaty noises). but i really don't know. only guessing. maybe earthworms also guess. maybe they're not equipped for that. again, i don't know. it looks painful. skinless crawl on diamond bright pavement. skinless? no. but tender.

hmm. that is all. have to do that sleep thing. and that curse at my alarm thing.

buenos noches.