dreams

i am in the car with Jeff Garlin, who is also my dad for some reason, and he points a gun at my face. I feel the barrel on my forehead. i begin to plead. no, dad, please don’t do it. but he has to. i know too much. we struggle with this realization for a few moments before I open my eyes and begin to sob uncontrollably. his face follows suit. the walls bleed. he withdraws the gun. we sob together. 

there is a girl, at some point. a cigarette. an old friend. when i sleep for 10-12 hours my dreams are epic trilogies, more fascinating and dramatic than anything you can find on TV. besides bojack horseman. 

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