Mar 10, 2017

Dream log

I dreamt about this life for the first time and it was good, if not deeply weird.

I rode on a bus in my pyjamas and left flowers on the street and almost lost my glasses case but the driver stopped to hand them over. He didn't think that he'd see me again. There was the rising sinking floating motion of a bus on a long avenue, heading towards the ocean on undulating hills. We had a conversation about my dilettantism and no one was in a hurry.

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