I woke up and that post was there. Did I write it in my sleep? Or did Isaac hack my account again? The latter probably. I wish he would leave me alone.
I remember another nightmare. I was on the beach watching the waves. My high school history teacher was there, Mr. Jackson. He was smoking a cigarette. I could see the smoke rising out of his mouth. He walked away and I followed him to a small stone cliff with steps carved into it. "Count the steps," he said. I counted them and said, "Thirty-nine."
Suddenly, he wasn't Mr. Jackson anymore. He was Isaac. "So many stone stairs," he said, "for which I sought. Now that I'm gone, it's all for naught." A bird landed on his shoulder and pecked at his ear. "Yesterday," he said, "upon that stair, I met a man without a care. He didn't care again today - and now I thought of something to say." He leaned in close and I could see the bird had pecked away part of his skull, leaving his brain open and bleeding. "Listen: we made it up and it all came from true anyway. That's the funny part." Smoke poured from his mouth and blood from his nose. "Smoke and mirrors, my friend, it's all smoke and mirrors." Blood dripped down his face and he smiled.
And then I woke up.