A Letter to a Fellow Dreamer

Dear Jocelyne,

I see myself more clearly today, the self as I breathe, the self who is my memory. It’s so hard to fathom the source of this place. It’s an old place with crying babies, and some wretched woman screams in the distance. Snakes all over the babies. Biting, screaming, and I look at the architecture of white arches and large cut stone. I get lost, I lose my breath, and she comes out of the darkness to lash at me.

I know this is daemon, but I have accepted it today. I am not alone, because the wild and wired world of my waking life has taken my day to the plight of a lost girl like me.

Oh god, I always hate how I sound when I am trying to be serious, but the habit is so hard to just break. Jocelyne, you are putting too much doubt in the experience. I wish it was just dreams, I wish it was just a disorder that we could plug a needle in and sleep off. It’s a curse, but one with great burden yields satisfaction, right?

We both have that “ly” kind of name, and I like that. We’re both very much done with everyone. You were learning Glasswick from some two bit knock off clinic that was smart enough to do it, but dumb enough to kick you out when it was made for us. Your noble doctor comes from interesting origins, and she has met others like us before.

I was so serious when I first met you, because I needed to be sure you understood I was not just another anonymous user making fun of your struggle. But something about you just hits me the right way. I haven’t had a laugh like we’ve had in a long time. It felt like when I was first learning with my old friends, before they decided to leave me behind, to leave all this behind them. I am not sure if they have failed or if I am going to somehow succeed by being lazy. I wish they still were here, with me, but I have my Jo now so at least I am not the only one left to figure it out.