Yesterday i woke up late

in the afternoon from an odd dream. It wasn't distressing so much as removed from the usual and familiar environments and population of the places i habituate, which are often somewhat distressing.
i don't remember much, but i got up right away.
i am trying to remember what i was looking down on in there before i woke up and why i ended up drinking so early or at all.
i am trying to remember the whys of yesterday which for some reason is a bit of a blur.
i am trying to remember the day before.
A lot of things done but how i'm not quite sure.

For the last week, DFW was been very present in my mind, but not because his book is in my bed. For the last few weeks he was been much in my mind, not the writer but the man, wondering when he left Illinois, Everything And More and other things, half thoughts i never bothered to flesh out, in part because they had no reason popping up.

Everything shouldn't be so hard.