#9 Coffee

(transcript from cassette recording nº 9, of unknown origin)

Every time I dream it’s a little closer. Every time I dream with it, it’s a little closer, the thing that looks like me but wrong. And I can’t move, and if I look around and see my windows, they are always open, the world outside is just a black void dotted with starts. And I look at the thing and it’s there, not moving, looking right at me. The thing that looks like me but wrong. I, I’m convinced that if it gets too close something horrible is going to happen. And the dreams, they-- at first they were sporadic but now they happen every time I fall asleep. I tried to get ahold of amphetamines but those, those are really hard to get. So I had to resort to something else, caffeine, the only psychoactive drug we readily give to children. Easy to get. Not as potent as I’d like. It, it gets to a point, too, where you can’t just keep drinking, so I’ve been eating the beans. I’m getting to my third day without sleep, I really don’t want to sleep. Because if I sleep the thing that looks like me but wrong will be riGHT AT MY FUCKING FACe. So I’m going to eat some more beans. My jaw hurts, the beans are hard. It’s bitter and it’s the only thing I’ve tasted in a while because I can’t keep food in my stomach. I’m shitting acid. Can’t fall asleep. Can’t fall asleep. Can’t fall asleep. Can’t fucking fall asl