last night I dreamt that I woke up one morning and was made of newspaper. A particularly interesting news story was blocked and wrapped around my thighs, and I tried to turn round to read the other side of my leg when it occurred to me that I might be unfortunately fragile. I stuck my finger in my mouth and when I pulled it out it was smudged, damp and soggy. my dreams and my waking life used to exist on tectonic plates transiting miles apart, but they met on the other side of the world, crashed into each other, made mountains of confusion. there are inchoate, undefined memories I have that I can't attribute to my dreams or to reality with absolute certainty. oiauseriausdofiaoeura. can't find the words. feel lost.

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