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ENTRY 4: February 16. 2025	We went underground at some point. At one point we moved underground. We found new communication channels, I began to send you messages through the ground. I created a new way to power the lights, we burned the wood and paper of the newspapers and signs. To speak, I started to pull down on the wires we strung. I wrote out my thoughts in the hard-packed dirt around the tunnels. You found it later when you would come looking for me. Without light and dark at regular intervals we created our own days, making up the cycles of the moon and marking seasons from the larvae living around us. In the summer we grew faster and in the winter we curled around each other and often slept. It wasn't so bad, we began to sound different and immitated the music we made from the wires. Our skin turned translucent over time and it wasn't so bad. At some point I couldn't imagine the old way, before I could watch your blood move through your chest, your heart flickering. --- Derelict crane - licked the house gasped - spilling open that afternoon in the shadow of trees - what was inside? He wondered and soon found. In a world built from derelict cranes and a broken house off the highway machines that stopped a long time ago what do you feel for the house with the door left wide open - showing a kitchen still painted strawberry red ---
ENTRY 3: February 9. 2025	You hold me on your lunch break, beneath the office buildings, in the center, they built a pond for ducks to swim, I never finish watching them.
ENTRY 2: February 5. 2025	Dreamed the campground was on fire. My brother and I looked over the ridge and saw the smoke across the valley. We went back too slowly, my brother pulling the cart and taking a different path to escape the foxes which followed him. We came to our family all strewn on the lawn in plastic chairs. Well let's go, dad said, as we went to check out. Much too late, the last ones now. I thought of us getting in line and waiting. Fire surrounding the road.
ENTRY 1: February 4. 2025	Portland, Oregon (March 8. 2020) A few months ago I had a dream in which I kept being pulled into cycles of unreality. I would leave the door of my room and fall into a loop of recursion. I knew that this was drastically wrong but also that after it had happened a few times, it must continue infinitely. I thought vaguely that I wished I could wake up, that I could have control over this endless loop, I threw up and my alarm went off, waking me up. Luckily, this feeling hasn't resurfaced much in the last few months. A more common difficult emotion has been uncomfortability or anger at my body. I will feel disgusted by my own flesh and want desperately to cover it up and to be shapeless. I will feel anger on top of this emotion, that I cannot feel control over my own perception of myself. This is a very difficult one, simply because of it's frequency. Better to just avoid mirrors as much as possible.