I've never been seasick. I know, however, that seasickness is terrible. I've seen people seasick. Friends, you know. It's a miserable thing that folds you over the side of the boat, heaving and dizzy. I play with seasickness sometimes. Imagining that it's got me, that I'm beginning to feel that heaviness in my throat and that uneasy lurching in my belly. And then for a moment, maybe I really am seasick. Maybe. But I'll never know, because the experiment ends there. I stop imagining, and just like that I stop being sick.

At national park in Moab, Utah. The girl who is checking me in is black and very pretty.

Are you the guy who did the Ravine?

I mean, I've done it but it's been awhile.

Oh, I was talking about someone last Tuesday.

I begin climbing then turn back for my camera. There are a lot of people in the office area now, all black. I have a hard time finding where I registered, then become lucid.

Am staying with my girlfriend in a house with three other girls. I keep expecting to see her and then do not. Somehow we are unable to communicate. As it turns out, we speak two different languages.

Mine is spoken and hers is taste. It is made up of joining together unique tastes one after the other. I can hardly understand and so study for some time.

In love with a girl named Sylvie. At least I think that's her name, but am embarrassed to ask. The story is long but choppy. I find myself in a strip club a few times where I leave very quickly. One time, the proprietor is there. He is an old man and he shoots customers with a bow and arrow if they misbehave or fail to pay. I find this hilarious.

At a bookstore where an animator is giving autographs. The people she is providing autographs for are aspiring artists. They are providing cells or complete animations to be signed.

I'm sitting next to the animator, a thirty-ish woman of Asian or island descent. We are talking about the fans and other things. The first fan's [proce] is an unfinished drawing of the animator. She draws a small picture of herself as a cartoon and signs.

There are some manner of talks being held which I and others are attending. David is around and is talking about a sort of platonic legal union for bringing two people's aims together. He is married, or engaged, anyway, but is planning on this sort of union with another woman.

There is a girl, Katy, sitting next to me. Her leg is touching mine and I am consciously creating contact. She's talking about traveling smart in the Caribbean. How not to appear rich, lost, etc. It is all basic stuff.

I move to California in a car. It is the present, and I'm still going sailing in the beginning of December. Also, I have the same amount of money as I do in waking life. When I arrive I go by a hospital, as if in passing. I need a bandage for my finger, kind of like my pinkie, but on a different finger.

I enter the hospital from a side door and meander to the front desk. Some other people think I'm trying to cut them off, but I'm just coming from a different direction.

We would have been first, says a little boy, if we had come your way.

Shaving in front of a bathroom mirror. I have short hair. Carlos, the new boyfriend of my ex is there, getting dressed. He has breasts, is tall and skinny. I try to tell him, somewhat bitterly, that there is no bitterness between us.

Earlier was with my sister. She had texted Dehra to come and meet us at an ice skating rink that was closed. Dehra couldn't make it. Later we send another invite, to which she agrees.