“Dream therapy just hasn’t been working,” Phil explained to his therapist. “Sure, getting in a gangbang with Bill Nighy and Kenneth Cranham was amusing, if not strangely arousing, at first. But now these dreams are getting bizarre, and frankly downright annoying. Some nights, I want to turn the emitter off and get a plain nice rest. Face it doc, maybe I’m just not cut out to be a writer. I’m an empty vessel, void of anything creative.
“First off,” the therapist retorted, “I’m not a doctor. I’m a simple ass therapist. And secondly, do you think your emitter needs calibrating? Are you sure that it isn’t malfunctioning? Most of my clients have found dream therapy to be thoroughly beneficial.”
“No, it’s not malfunctioning. You know I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for a long time now. I think I made a deal with the devil to write one successful novel and now I’m paying the price. I’m a one hit wonder.”
The therapist shifted in his seat and placed his pen up to his lips. “I think you’re running away from the real problem here,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. The off world rebellion. You are a highly decorated soldier in that war.”
Phil threw his hands in the air. “Come on! You know that I haven’t had any symptoms in nearly two years. Not since my novel was published. That has nothing to do with my current problems!”
“Something like that doesn’t just go away, Phil. Just because it’s been awhile since you’ve experienced symptoms doesn’t mean that it’s something that no longer affects you. You were evasive of it then and you’re being evasive of it now. You can lie to me all day. I get paid the same. But if you want to get your money’s worth out of this, you have to start being honest with yourself. And besides, this issue you’re avoiding might be the solution to your writer’s block. If you want my professional advice, be honest with yourself and perhaps this dream therapy will start working.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Internet Ruined Everything 