Huh. Two nights ago I had a dream of being in an old villa with annoying, unstable people. Went exploring in old mining sites. By the end of the dream I was at my old therapist's office and she told me that "drinking won't help you write", and I nodded in agreement.
Last night I was at my brother's funeral, he was there too as a 19/20-year old, but somehow still dead. I told him I hate him more than he can imagine. The ceremony took several days, and I had to sleep in a broom closet full of dusty VHS tapes and boxes of old photos of me. There was also a haunted doll at the venue, a really creepy fucker, and lots of awkward and anxiety-inducing meals.
Yesterday's food situation was abysmal. An avocado, two sausages, one potato, a bit of pasta, a few spoonfuls of rice porridge, a couple slices of cheese. Everything tastes like licking an ashtray (I don't smoke). I just took Nera out and fed her, now I'll try to sleep just a tiny bit more.