A Disintegration Loop

A long entry, set as I remember it in the usual mangled town (as an aside, Jovum is its name it has been decided, I saw it on a sign. It also turns out to be an obvious misspelling of something else) my brain settles in to...and also the paper place. This features an old friend, whom I no longer speak to for simple reasons; he is a cock. I also thought I remembered this as two separate events but apparently not. The specifics of the cut out town reminds me of Salvador Plascencia's People of Paper, so I elected not to use it in any of The Last Night Tree. As way of an update on 'that', it currently stands at 26000 words, and the initial sections set in Jovum and the United Kingdom, of which all are introductions and plot setting, are just about complete. Characters are in place and characterised. A synopsis of the book will come in a few weeks. This entry was written at 3.46 am 'Wandering around a bizarre cut out town. Some features are familiar to me. Matthew Hyde is ab...

This was a classic example of my being in three states; 1) asleep and imagining this scenario 2) half waking and assuming it is happening in real life and 3) writing it down 'I am woken by the sound of something smashing outside the window in the room where I sleep. I don't pull back the curtain, as I know it is some sort of fire bomb, possibly constructed from a tennis ball and matchheads, like that found in a certain cookbook. In the morning, I am outside in the road, collecting bits of paper and detritus the bomb seems to have left in its wake. A Japanese girl is helping me clear the street. We appear to be cohabiting; I am unsure if there is a sexual relationship. She is wearing shorts and a tshirt, in a very 80's style, and explains to an elderly gentleman who happens to be passing what has happened. He mumbles something in Japanese that I cannot understand. I look at the details on his wrinkled face and wonder why I am living somewhere where I understand no-one. We li...

Essentially I am using this as an area for storing a collection of nocturnal happenings in my brain. Sometimes, and it waxes and wanes over the year, I awake and write down what I've been thinking about whilst asleep. It's a bit more ethereal than simple chronicling, as I tend to be mostly asleep when it happens, and writing comes automatically to my fingers. Most of it is ache. However, patterns will emerge. These notes develop, eventually (and after a long process of twiddling, mastication and reconstruction), in to what is currently called The Last Night Tree. I will sometimes add brief notes/explanations to where certain items/instances have come from and why they are included. (?) indicates sections and ideas that I cannot presently recall, but apparently could at the time of writing. The only grammatical changes made to each entry are adding capital letters to the beginning of sentence which I am for some reason incapable of doing at random o'clock. I should point out...