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Order this writing in the Kuypers poetry book Close Cover Before Striking (first sold out with a neon green cover, later released with a matchbook cover) now available for only 1495

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Order this writing in the poetry book the Kuypers Edition: Blister and Burn now available for sale

Order this writing in the book A Wake-Up Call From Tradition This is the 2nd of a 3 volume 2009 set.
the 5.5"x8.5" paperback book: $14.95

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Order this writing in the 2010 book the Written Word of 1991-1996 Janet Kuypers short prose

This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v118) (the July / August 2013 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Drowning (a Down in the Dirt collection book)		get the 297 page July - Dec. 2013 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

dreams turned into nightmares

Janet Kuypers


Analyze this. Get yourself on track. All men are scum anyway, Christ, this was just your reaffirmation of it. None of these people really matter. Just get back to your work, get yourself focused again. That’s how to demonstrate your worth.

You don’t care about your work. Who are you trying to impress? Let it pile up. It doesn’t matter. God, why does it always feel like this?Why is it that you have to depend on others for your worth, and when there is one little crumb of affection thrown at you, you savor it and pray that it’s a sign for more and you hope and your pray and then when nothing comes it’s all the same again except this time all of your hopes are shot.

Why are there times like this when you feel so alone? There are other times when you relish in your solitude. Look at the dishes pile up. You should be doing laundry. Slob. Bitch. Can’t even clean up after yourself.

Why does everything have to hurt you so much? Why are you crying so much more now? Why do you look for ways to feel bad, reasons to cry? What do you feel guilty for? Why do you go through this?

Oh, don’t even try to daydream and get yourself out of this. It will always be the same, you have to remember that. You can try to dream that you deserve something better, but don’t bother. You will always keep trying, with the hope that it will get better, and you will keep failing, every single god-damn time, and that’s the way it will go, forever and ever, on and on. It won’t stop, not until you do. Can you resign yourself to this? Can you resign yourself to not trying, or are you going to keep building your hopes up for nothing?

What is the good of anything that you’ve done? Are you any happier for it?
God, how do you go through these cycles? How the Hell can you deal with it? There’s got to be a way to get out of it. Try not to think of it.

You’re so lonely. All you’ve got left to you is your mind, and it’s destroying you, slowly. When will it destroy you altogether? When? It’s only a matter of time.

Why do you dream? Are you trying to escape reality? Are you trying to create a new reality? I think you dream and dream until you think that it’s all actually real, and then when someone in your life proves your dream wrong you whole world falls to pieces. Piece. Little pieces. Look, there goes a few now. Try to pick them up, you’re going to lose them if you don’t pick them up and try to piece them back together again, and then you’ll be destroyed. Can you create a new dream with what you have left?

You want to slip into it again. It’s what keeps you alive, keeps you going. It’s the only thing that gives you hope. What the Hell do you need that hope for? You’ll be let down, you know it, if you can step down from that dream of yours. Get out of it! Stop. All these good dreams keep reminding you of what it could be like, if only you were someone else, if only you were someone liked and successful and important. And those bad dreams, those are your way of punishing yourself for dreaming. Your mind slips them in there, when no one else is looking, and then, because you live in your dreams so much, you have to play it out, and then you’ll cry and cry and there’s nothing you can do.

You can’t face up to it, can you? You’ll be no better than this. Your life will be no better than this. Nothing will be better than this, better than dreams turned into nightmares.

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