I'm not sure of the meaning of this, but over the last week or so, I've been experiencing a kind of despair. I'm in the middle of moving...somewhere....because...in Orlando, over the last few months, I have neither made much money nor worked on serious art, so I decided to leave (as I've noted in previous posts). Generally, I'm headed to Key West. I have my van and my sailboat, but I may sell the van and then later buy a car in the Keys, or maybe I'll buy a big sailboat, a real liveaboard... and get a wife and raise some kids... yeah, right.
But I have another opportunity, if I wish. I've discovered an atelier in Miami. I could live on my boat, sell some art by the side of the road, and study traditional, serious art at the atelier over the next few years. ...Or something like that...
I have competing desires and possibilities, and this leaves me with despair. And I'm having nightmares again, and regrets.
Nightmares and the associated "waking visual and auditory hallucinations" are a big part of my life which have almost completely wrecked me at times, but I never mention them. It's a deep horror for me, and I simply don't tell anyone... so maybe it's time I did, here, briefly. In a real way, this aspect of my soul has destroyed any kind of normal life. From a young boy onwards, I've been terrorized by all this. As the years have passed, I have, indeed, calmed somewhat. But stressful times renew the demons. And dreadful nights, followed by haunted days, ensue.
So I go to the sea, where I seem to sleep well. I don't know why.
I go to the sea... this week.