My first memoir is out right now! Free eBooks this Friday through Monday! (news)

Amazon.com: Driven to Hollywood (The Naja Tau Memoir Trilogy Book 1)

My very first memoir is out right now for the Kindle! You can download this eBook for free any time from this Friday 8/21/26 to Monday 8/24/26. 

My intestines fall out during my birthday party. (dream)

Image by Midjourney

DREAM

I'm playing a video game, when I notice that a large, fleshy tube is starting to push its way out of my stomach. But I feel fine. I ask if we can still go to the party. I don't know what else to do. One of my friends says yes, and no one else knows, so we all go to the hall to celebrate. 

But I confide in a nurse friend as well, and she's very concerned. 

We open presents. We're about to eat cake when I worry about whether or not my body can handle food. My nurse friend shuts the party down. That was enough. It's time for me to go to the hospital. 

INTERPRETATION

This is how I feel in real life. I've developed tardive dyskinesia, which is a movement disorder caused by long-term antipsychotic use. And I feel like I have to go to work, be pleasant, and carry on with my life--all while my "intestines" are falling out. And I wish I could just press "pause" on the party and get someone to fix it, but it's been 5 months of treatment after treatment, and I'm losing hope.

Godzilla is outside my trailer. (dream)

Image by Midjourney

DREAM 

I'm in a small trailer with a huge window to the city outside. I see Godzilla starting to come down the road. I'm scared, but I'm not that scared. I'm scared, but I'm not going to run. I'm going to seek shelter indoors and hope I'll be okay. 

I open a door. I see my black cat in the distance. I call for him. He comes towards me--a huge relief! I pick him up and put him inside. 

Then my little four-year-old cousin comes by. I let her in. She lets in about 3 of the neighborhood kids. I shoo all of the kids out. 

"Don't let anyone else inside my house!" I chastise. She looks like she feels bad. I shut the door on her as well. 

I feel the vibrations of the monster's footsteps. I can see him right outside my window. 

I go to my mother's pincushion. I realize she's dead and I don't need those sewing materials anymore. I pick them up to throw them away. One of the pins pricks my finger. I pull it out. It bleeds a little. 

A song begins to play in my head. It's only got one line: "Some people shouldn't have hopes and dreams." 

INTERPRETATION

When I think of Godzilla, I think of a big, big problem--like a natural disaster type of problem. I'm facing a lot of BIG changes right now. Changes in where I live, in employment, changes in my opinions about stuff like having children. I had been hoping for a change in my relationship status, which didn't happen. And that's why I think is why I dreamed about such a depressing song. 

I think I shooed the children out because I fear having children. What if I would be a terrible parent? What if the child is too intrusive, stepping on my limited resources? As a waking person, I know the right thing would be to let all the children stay in the trailer. In fact, I should compel them to stay in the trailer. Godzilla looked like he was looking for movement in the streets. But in the dream, it only felt natural to want that trailer space for myself, my cousin, and my cat. 

But I'm not running from my problems--or I don't feel as though I am. I'm just hunkering down for a little while. It's going to take patience sort all of this out. 

Another epiphany. (rants)

Image by Midjourney

I've had another epiphany recently. It's one that makes me want to create a new rule for myself. 

I'm not in a romantic relationship. But if I were to be in one, I would have to be really careful about who I talked to about it. I wouldn't want to broadcast specific, detailed information about it to a general audience. Because if the people I told had bad judgment or misunderstood the situation, I'd be giving someone incompetent the power to influence my feelings about my partner. And my feelings about my partner would already be really running high. 

Also, if I were to complain about my partner, the instant reaction that would get me is, "Leave them!" But conflict can be a very good thing. It can be a sign of a healthy relationship. 

So I want to keep any current relationships relatively private. Once the relationship ends, I think all bets are off. But for me, I think a current relationship should probably be spoken about with trusted people only. 

So if I want to talk about my feelings about a current relationship in art, I want to keep it pretty highly abstract.

My epiphany for the weekend. (rant)

Image by Midjourney

This weekend, after suffering heartbreak, then being lifted up by so many friends and fellow creators, and then having my sexual boundaries intruded upon, I have come to an epiphany. Love is the most abundant material in the universe. Why do we treat it like it's scarce? Why do we think that only one person can give it to us? That intimacy and connection can't happen in a variety of ways? Pick up a pen and write. Love can come to us from so many directions. We just can't be picky about the form it comes in.

And we have to release our desire to control others. The more we grasp, the faster they run anyway.

I realized that there was someone whose journey I would have liked to intertwine more intimately with mine. But I doubt that will happen now. He's the same beautiful person who made me feel so intrigued in the first place, but I have to manage that disappointment.

And then there's someone else who knows nothing will ever happen between us, but he keeps persisting. You know you're not getting that type of love from me. There's nothing ambiguous about it. So look for that love and connection in someone else. There's abundant love in the universe. 

Naked at work. (dream)

Image by Midjourney

DREAM

I'm at work. I sit in a chair next to a coworker's desk and pull out my phone. I start to scroll, but it's only then that I'm aware of my nakedness. It surprises me, but I feel calm and still. It's okay. I don't mind being naked with him and the other coworker beside him. I continue to act naturally. I keep scrolling.

INTERPRETATION

A couple of months ago, I was experiencing a really difficult situation at work, and I came to this particular coworker in a panic. I didn't even think about what I was saying or how crazy or unpopular or stupid or wrong it might make me look. I was totally in the moment because I was having an internal crisis.

I don't exactly know why I went to him in particular. But I know that this particular coworker will give you his focus and attention when others won't. He listened to me, then gave his opinion, which guided me through the crisis. And in the long run, he ended up being correct. In the short run, he calmed my nervous system. 

I'll always be thankful to someone who made me feel comfortable when I was suddenly naked. I'll always be thankful to someone who doesn't make me feel ashamed after I've been naked. 

I think the thing about being naked in front of someone else that's scary is how that person will know every detail of every odd, organic little thing. And every odd, organic little thing can cause an instinctive, visceral reaction--good or bad. But that unique, organic mess is really what makes life interesting and beautiful. I'm in a place where I'm learning to accept that. 

Straddling between being an INFP and an INTP. (dream)

Image by Midjourney

DREAM

My modern art museum house is burning down, so I strip a painting of its gold foil, so I'll have some money. On the art, the foil is in a small, pouring, glass hourglass--crumpled like tiny Hershey Kiss wrappers. I crumple it all up together, and it's like it used to be a whole sheet. I take it with me on a journey. I'm in long, all-white robes--light for the summer, and I wear white shorts underneath.

As I walk outside in the sun, I pass by a huge parade of Chinese costumes worn by beautiful women with long, elegant necks in white and pink paint.

I forget where I stored my gold. I check my shorts. Still there.

I'm in a library now. I'm dressed in a black pea coat. I'm on my way out the door, passing the checkout desk.

I can see and hear a male librarian at the desk talking about a senior citizen who is so lonely that he has literally lost his mind. And coming to the library helped him become a little less lonely and regain some of his sanity.

"And the first thing he asked for was a book on theoretical physics." The librarian slumps over. "Why?"

I understand this to mean that in our society, some of our minds with the most potential and the most energy are suffering under unnecessary constraints. Things like loneliness. It's a waste of life. Why.

I suffer too. I lack time. I waste my time trying to make money. I'd like to check out books on theoretical physics too, but our society values money a heck of a lot more. I feel a sense of pride and yearning about this aspect to my identity.

The library lobby is expansive. The floors are mauve and smooth and have little chips of a darker color in them.

As I walk to the exit, I consider some things more deeply, like the recent time I entered a playwrighting contest and lost and decided that writing was a waste of time.

An inner voice starts speaking to me loudly. "You don't value your NFness enough. It's fine for you to idealize your NT interests. There's nothing wrong with that. And you seem comfortable doing it. But when it comes to your NF interests, you're willing to discard them. But your NF side is important too."

This seems like a divine message and I consider it deeply.

I consider how writing that play may have benefitted me. Maybe I learned something about personal expression. Maybe I learned some things I can incorporate into a different project.

I was just thinking about how not everything is about money. I guess that's fine for me when I think about doing physics, but I just ignore that when it comes to creative writing--which seems inconsistent.

After I walk through the RFID detectors of this beautiful library, I pass by several stores, including a place called "Sound Bar." They sell pancakes with a fluffy spread in the middle along with audio equipment. I remark at what a novel combination this is. I'm certain it helps them to be loved and remembered, and that seems so important to me right now.

INTERPRETATION

Yesterday, I finished the rough draft of my first memoir. I intend for it to be one of three books. And last night, as I was going back over the document, I ended on the chapter about my physics tutor.

I think all the time about how I need to be studying for more IT certificates instead of investing even more time in writing--which is something I've been doing pretty consistently for about 14 years now. I see no material returns from this investment in writing. The only returns are buried deep in my soul due to the power of organizing and articulating my thoughts and feelings. It's hard for me to get over that lack of material benefits for some reason--maybe because of internalized capitalism.

Writing this memoir has taken a lot out of me. It was very hard to do. But I'm proud of this achievement. It feels incredibly validating to have my perspectives on paper and to read excerpts out loud and get an audience reaction. I feel love and compassion radiating from people when I tell my story. It's a high. And I feel like this was something important for me to do.

In spite of these feelings, I lack confidence in the value of doing what my INFP instincts are driving me to do.

Myers-Briggs is another component of this dream. I think Myers-Briggs is woo woo, but I have a lot of fun with woo woo. I often test as an INFP, and the description fits me pretty well, but sometimes, and not infrequently, I test as an NT. I'm pretty certain about that IN, but the T versus F is something I don't think I have a consistent preference for. (I took one of those free online tests this morning, and it gave me INFP.)

I met someone else like me in this respect, and it's interesting to observe him. He used to test as an INTJ, but over time, started testing as an INFJ. I can see both in him. He has some of the vulnerabilities and strengths of each, but he doesn't fit neatly into a Myers-Briggs stereotype. So I know I'm not imagining things; people like me who straddle both do exist. 

There's never been any doubt that I'm a sexual 5 in the Enneagram, but my Myers-Briggs has never been consistent.