An Excerpt from The Transcript of The 3rd Session between Analyst R and Analysand 5, From The Archive of One « Taboo La Rasa. »
Cela s’est passé comme suit :
« Q. »
« Well, I had sleeping problems for a while. The doctor recommended things like Clonazepam, Ambien, &c., but I thought I would much rather have something natural. So, I began to take melatonin supplements. Only 5 milligrams, about 30 minutes before I went to bed. As a matter of course, I now began to have issues awaking in the morning. The doctor said something like Wellbutrin, which I happily and willfully ignored. Coffee was out of the question, given that [REDACTED]. … So, again opting for the natural route, I began to take Schisandra berry extract. I saw in a tweet or something that it boosted energy, and it really did. »
« Q. »
« It did work ! It worked so well I began to take it twice a day. I would almost say it gave me some sort of spiritual energy. A true passion for completing, with utmost earnest, my day-to-day route tasks. »
« Q. »
« Well, there was one time where I was dreading to wash my sheets. I was sitting in the chair across from my bed, at my hideous unfinished Burch desk. It’s important for the story to remark that my room is horrid and ugly. My bedsheets are grey, and my walls are beige. I have a popcorn ceiling. And the chair ! The chair I was sitting in resembled the electric kind. It was my father’s. He was a stern and stolid man, and his chair reflected such qualities. A large and imposing silver monstrosity, to sit in it caused pain in areas that aren’t even commonly associated with sitting. My- »
« Q. »
« I do not know where he acquired said chair. »
« Q. »
« Ok. Sure. Fine. It was one evening after I had taken quite a bit of Schisandra in the day. I had a lot to do &c.. As one can imagine, I was then again having trouble sleeping. So, I took a lot of melatonin. I thought, hey, it’s natural, what could the issue be? I- »
« Q. »
« 15 milligrams »
« Q. »
« No »
« Q. »
« Yes, as I was saying. Sure enough, I did fall asleep, but I had a weird dream. I found myself in my childhood home. My whole family was there, but I wasn’t. Given my estimate of the ages of those present, I should have been 11 or 12… but, of course, I wasn’t, because I wasn’t there. Even so, everything looked the exact same as I remembered it from that time. In fact, I even remembered the night. It was a night in which a particularly grievous family secret was revealed, at the dinner table, as those things go. I- »
« Q. »
« I wish not to speak of such things »
…
« Well… The secret was revealed. In the original circumstance I was obviously present. I hold key memories from this moment; I remember exactly everything I said. Everyone else too, very lucidly. In the dream, I wasn’t present to say what I had said, so the conversation went a bit differently. However, my father, the one whose secret was in discussion, said the exact same thing that ended the conversation as he did in my memory. Same cadence, phrasing, what have you. And the rest of my family, my mother, my sister, my grandmother, all reacted the same as I remembered. Basically, all the results, implications, takeaways that resulted from the revelation happened as I remembered in facticity but without me there. This disturbed me; it implied my presence had no bearing on the course of the discussion and its results. With this disquiet I decided, in the dream, to go see my bedroom. I walked up the stairs and ‘round the corner. I stood shocked. Where the door to my room should have been was a wall. »