6/16/2023: I am chased about my house by a lobster that is missing its eyes and one of its claws, and the pattern of whose movements suggest it is sentient. 

7/2/2023: I attempt to ingratiate myself with the malevolent Lord of Spiders, a human-sized demon with spiders' legs but a great white smiling mask for a head/face. Unfortunately, I must hug him. 

Later, my cousin and I are traveling through rural Utah, and stop in a small town which is somehow still caught up in the COVID-19 pandemic and sufficiently en-quarantined to be deserted. I first attempt to use a very shabby public park restroom despite the steel toilet’s many cobwebs, but eventually am dissuaded from actually taking advantage of it by the appearance of both a black widow spider and what appears to be a large, dog-like rodent on the toilet seat. I leave and search for other bathrooms. Finding a business district and deciding to patronize a local store in exchange for the use of their lavatory, I walk into a book store where I find resting on a low coffee table a well-used copy of a book called “Fragments of Being” by Martin Heidegger. The book indeed contains scattered notes and letters written by Martin Heidegger throughout his life on a variety of subjects. The pages of the book are each divided into stacks of intermittent black and gold squares, with the text being the opposite color depending on which square it falls in; but rather than always falling neatly within the domain of each square, the lines of text are formatted so that, for every point on every page that one square gives way to another, a line of text intersects that same line, so that many of the lines of text, the headers especially, are half-gold along the top but half-black along the bottom, or vice versa. This makes the book hard to read. However, before waking up, I do read the title of one fragment— “On the Color Non-White”, along with that fragment’s first line: “Is hate subject to that to which the hated is subjected?”