The inner skies are a sickly green with yellow wisps of doubt and confusion permeating confidence bubbles everywhere. More nightmares. Not much sleep. I seem to have a lot of nightmares when I’m manic and sleep too much when I’m depressed.
Each task seems like some kind of insurmountable thing. I’ve had some moments of standing perfectly still while staring into the distance already today. Not unpleasant. It’s actually a very safe feeling to be perfectly still and just watch things, but that’s not a good choice for me if I want to get anything done.
Maybe if I turn over the rocks in Unreality I’ll find the shiny rock that will hold all the answers and take me back home to Weird.
I’d rather be in Weird. Things make more sense there.