Wednesday, March 29, 2006


It has seemed like forever since I've had a "self-doubt" dream, but this one woke me from a deep sleep and now refuses to let me rest.

In the dream, I am both reading a comic book and in the comic book - a black and white book with a two-by-two grid. The comic focuses on me, pictured from the shoulders up, as the top of my skull is sawn off, as a bunch of cartoony tools (scalpel, dental pick, drill, pastry crimper) on mechanical extenders poke around in my exposed brain.

Finally, I say "I'm sorry. I lied. I can't see through walls."

And a voice off-panel says, "Well, thank you for being honest about it."

And the next shot is me, standing at the bus stop in the rain, my brain still exposed, holding the top of my skull in my hands like a bowl.

Concern over still being on a learning curve about Massively Multiplayers? Or just that they're running Invader Zim episodes during lunch in the break room?

More later,