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Essays 


Saturday 14th

I had a tortuous night. I dreamt this psychic and ill tempered director John Sanborn had taken over the soul of the lovely Appalachian story teller Jo Carson. Jo Carson had unconsciously taken over his name to become John Carson, a spy. Her mission was to discover a better alternative to any of the 64 endings he already had selected for his new interactive film. I got up to pee in the middle of the night.




Greg Roach dashed up to his room after listening to all the strange noises coming from the second floor. He was a bit uncomfortable knowing he had foolishly left all the scripts for his new CD ROM projects sitting on top of his bed. He had told me earlier that night "in this industry, everyone is out to rip off your ideas." I had to pee once again. All that water I had to drink in order to stop my dehydration during the day, was taking it's toll. I hear water flowing from the upper floors, I know I'm dreaming, I go back to sleep.

 

 


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