The Manure of Experience II

Last night my wife said that while I lay in bed asleep, I spoke in tongues punctuating my phrases by spitting. A few nights ago: I got out of bed, staggering and exhausted, unable to walk without staggering, unable to open my eyes. I fell against things: a bed post, a doorframe. I couldn’t get my hands to work.

My dream world is becoming more than I can handle on my own.