Tonight, I got the urge to draw, so I pulled an old notebook out of a drawer. After I’d doodled for a bit (walruses and trees and frogs and bullrushes), I started flipping through its pages. On one, I’d written (and this is transcribed verbatim),

The bedroom window; the tree; rain & puddles; sinister underneath; woods; the hanged woman; night windows; the bend in the stairs; sing in a graveyard; robots; light-bulb ghost; empty classroom

today its a sandwich shop, yesterday it was the waiting room @ St. Mary’s and someday it will be a bedside.

From this I can conclude that.

  1. I have a horrible memory,
  2. I make no sense, and
  3. At some point in the past, I was downright creepy.