Inland Empire: The unfiltered wellspring of imagination, emotion, and foreboding (prologue)

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A lot of things could have been much worse. I can say that about a lot of things. But time is a cruel mistress; it does not wont for anything. I should sleep this off, but the thing is I can barely contain my anxieties. In a few hours it is back to work for me. But before so, I want to say that my dreams are all that matters to me now. There is nothing that will hold me back any more, not even the images of failure will prohibit me from trying to attain.

So in the midst of all this commiserating, I will finally enable my senses to run amok. No more fetters, no filters, no shame. I will be whole again.

Yet in my mind I find I cannot rely on myself. 

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