I'm back to dreaming blindly with stones under my head. I always turn to dreams when things get hard or different. They lead me astray in the best way, warn me of the future, and reveal the flaws I don't see in the daylight.

But now I'm back here in the place where I was raised, sipping wine with my mother and idly flipping through thousands of channels with nothing to watch. No stones, no dreams, no desire or need to sleep just yet, a million indescretions rolling around in my head.

I need to start keeping count, then maybe you'll see for once that I am right about all of this.