You
You are free from the grip of alcohol. You're free from the grip of heroin
You're free from the grip of cocaine. You're free from the grip of pills and handy medication
You're free from the grip of pornography. You're free from the grip on healthy food
You're free from the grip of crippling sadness.
When the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?
Is it banished like a cloud, or is it just a dream?
When the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?
Is it banished like a cloud on a windy spring day?
Or does it live forever, looking for a new person to take it over?
The doctor's ready to see you.
Please have a seat. Tell me where you're here.
I don't know. You don't know. You're lost. You're looking for inspiration. You're a writer, yes?
There's something I'm trying to write, yeah.
Please have a seat. Tell me everything. Don't be shy. Tell me what you're looking for.
I don't know.
I lost my dad earlier in the year.
Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad!
About a month after that, I became that myself.
A month after that, my wife and I got separated.
I just seem out of control lately.
You're out here. You're feeling sorry for yourself because your daddy died without seeing your newborn baby.
You know what they did to me. Ask me what they did to me.
Well, I gotta go.
Yeah, it sounds like a pretty bad one.
I'm trying to find a way to turn all the pain into something positive.
Listen, all of us desire not only to understand, but also to be understood, right?
Yeah?
Yeah. What's your connection?
Oh, well, connection is that I assume that you want the world to understand your pain through your writing, right?
And the one thing that used to come easy to you now seems like a pretty arduous task, doesn't it?
Yeah. How do you know all that?
Well, I know it might be a little crazy. Just bear with me here for a second.
Most people see a bed as a place of slumber.
There's a place where we watch TV.
But those lucky enough, maybe even a place to fuck, but see for me the bed is a vessel for creativity.
Have I lost you yet? It's okay. Let me explain.
At the end of the day, when you're ready to go to sleep, our minds are finally free from the buzzing and the grinding of the day.
We slowly slip into our subconscious state, right?
And at the very moment you do this, you have the ability to snatch little pieces of brilliance here and there.
Little pieces of brilliance you wouldn't have access to normally, right?
But, however, I've found a way to bottle this feeling so we can access it pretty much anywhere, anytime.
It's called the little black Band-Aid. Le petit Pensement Noir.
That's exactly what it is, a Band-Aid.
Think of it as creativity in the form of a Band-Aid.
It contains a chemical that, once released into your bloodstream, will just very slowly, very smoothly put you in this kind of REM,
dream-like sort of state.
And the real beauty of it is you don't even have to be asleep.
Just put one of these on and bam, within 10 minutes, you're in a Fellini feel.
Mon petit?
Yes, doctor?
Can you please get me one bottle of Le Pensement, please?
Thank you.
There's one thing, however, I want you to be careful with these, okay?
And you will do it in some sort of an unfamiliar setting, outdoors, away from distraction, right?
It's importance, how you maximize the potential.
I think this is the right thing for you right now.
It's going to help a great deal.
Yeah, let's do it.
Just one thing that has been brought to my attention before.
I've had some patients report cases of residual nightmare, you know, like types of side effects.
So make sure that, especially at the beginning of the take, that the use is not too heavy, you should be fine, okay?
That's the only known potential side effect, nightmares.
I'm used to nightmares.
My life's a fucking nightmare.
Well, I hope this will help.
Thank you.
Yeah, you can pay me whenever you're back.
I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm.
Why is it so friendly?
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string.
It's a box, thanks, man.
I'd say that I had spring fever.
But I know it isn't spring.
I am starry-eyed and vaguely discontented.
Like a nightingale without a song to sing.
Oh, why should I have spring fever when it isn't even spring?
I keep wishing I were somewhere else, walking down a strange new street,
hearing words that I have never heard.
I can't believe I'm here.
I can't believe I'm here.
I can't believe I'm here.
I'm here.
I can't believe I'm here.
I can't believe I'm here.
I can't believe I'm here.
I'm one of your upset daddy died before he got to see your little boy.
Not sleeping?
You've been sleeping your whole life.
I'm here to wake you up.
You think you got it real rough, huh?
Get me to a bloody fucking pulp and they cut off my goddamn lips!
No, I'd really like to see you get back with your wife.
It's not that easy.
Did you have a baby together?
Can you try?
I don't know.
It feels like something to a grenade through my dreams.
You're really upset.
I don't provide for a family when I can't provide for myself.
You know, when I lost your father, I felt like a ship that lost its mooring.
The doctor's ready to see you now.
So tell me, how was your experience last time?
I was walking through the snow in the middle of the woods with my kid.
So he was a lot younger.
And I handed him off to some guy hanging in a wheelchair.
It was weird.
I don't know where the hell that came from.
It's pretty peculiar.
Other than that, has it been helping with the writing?
Yeah, yeah, helped a lot.
What about those nightmares?
Nothing yet, really.
That shook me.
That's good, that's good.
It means it's working.
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
Music playing
There's a bull lost in the middle of the Midwest with his little baby calf going through a terrible winter.
They only anything to eat, to drink, no signs of life anywhere around for weeks, for months.
At this point, they're even wondering if they're going to make it through.
And yet they do. They do make it through.
Find themselves.
On top of this hill, a beautiful spring morning.
And they can see down the valley in the distance.
It's a beautiful, healthy-looking herd of cows.
Beautiful, luscious-looking, healthy-looking, juicy cows.
The little baby calf gets really excited.
Tells his dad dad, let's hurry up down the hill.
Let's run down the hill and fuck one of these cows.
Come on, let's do it.
Let's do it now.
And the bull looks at the calf.
Tells him no son.
We're going to walk down the hill.
And we're going to fuck them all.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Ah.
Yes, Doctor?
Hey, I would like you to ask me something.
What would you like me to ask you?
I want you to say, what the fuck was that all about?
What the fuck was that all about?
Well, that, my dear, that was about a very sad man.
But you're gonna make him a better, aren't you, doctor?
You know, I'm not a fucking doctor.
Oh.
It's okay.
Just kneel down.
Take your tongue out.
Are you there over the ocean? Are you there up in the sky? Until the return of my love, this lullaby.
You've been the tiniest creature's dream.
What does a grasshopper dream about? Or a firefly? Do they dream in green, black, or pink?
Maybe it's a blank canvas that you can only see with a black light.
I want to know what that looks like.
Why? Why did he have to die? The dreamer, since he left, his son's life, felt like a door that's constantly spinning but never closes.
An empty room, open to vulnerability, so he fills it with sin.
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