Trapped

My god, here at 3:50 a.m. I was awoken by a nightmare, so vivid, so horrible that I'm still shaken . . . I was somehow on the OUTSIDE of an elevator on the 125th floor that had stopped working . . . I couldn't get back in it and I couldn't go anywhere . . . and it wasn't working and I could just see over the top of it and it was a cold, sunny winter's day outside but no stairwell, no nothing . . . just trapped with no place to go but down.

Christ, I wonder what that means. I'm afraid to go back to bed. Maybe I'll just sit here and let this beer filter through my system and come to terms with why my father went into the hospital last night at the age of 87 and isn't doing well.

Christ, being alive sometimes is worse than being dead, I swear.