Tired

It seems I'm back to dreaming again. I thought I might have adapted to whatever it is in The Sick Land that gives me these dreams, but obviously not. Assuming they are related to The Sick Land. They could just be dreams, I suppose.

I dreamt I was talking with Bob. He was restored. If anything, he looked healthier than he ever did when he was alive. He was leaning against a vast, white surface, his arms folded. He told me he'd been trying to reach me, but I'd been too far away. Now, I was closer. He said I should prepare myself, that I needed to be ready. I asked him what was coming, but he just shook his head. He told me the battle that was to come was fought, the place undetermined, and the victor vanquished. I must have stared at him in bafflement, as he barked a laugh. He told me he can't think anymore. At least, not in any way that seems like thinking. He said he couldn't even predict his memories.

When I woke up, I ached all over. I felt like I hadn't slept at all. I trudged through another day with the animals. I'm going to bed now. I hope I can sleep.