In my dreams last night: Cityscapes and snowbanks. Institutions and the loyalty they expect. Parking drama. The passenger and driver of the car that just blocked me in? Two long lost friends.
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In my dreams last night: A mended friendship, a place of honor, a large bed, and words of reassurance.

Yet I am pursued by something cold and unfeeling. In a place where I don't really belong, thesis committee issues stalk me through the night.

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In my dreams last night: I channel and plagiarize the @Edmonds_Scanner æsthetic. In the middle of a forest is a hidden bookstore inside of which is another hidden forest. The book titles for sale are obscure, esoteric, and intensly interesting, but forest ogres won't let you browse in peace. The only solution: throwing apples which the ogres chase after will provide you with a few minutes to peruse the store's rare titles. #mydreamjournal
In my dreams last night: strange lodgings while traveling abroad. The ghost of an old house, reincarnated far from its foundations. I learn about the exotic, retro video games of foreign lands. This place is pretty cool, but they’ve never heard of orange juice. I encounter a familiar friend: a cat in a tuxedo. #MyDreamJournal
In my dreams last night: a road trip through the mountain West. Sometimes I'm accompanied, and sometimes I'm alone. Is this actually a relocation? A migration, maybe? In one small town I tour a dilapidated house. Outside, there are carnelians lying everywhere. I don't think we can trust the people of this town. We get out on the highways again, but we never make it to Spokane. #MyDreamJournal
In my dreams last night: Tawanka Commons.
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What my dreams are like when my R.E.M. cycles arent being suppressed by a sleep gummy:
#MyDreamJournal #80sHorror
In my dreams last night: I wander the halls of a previous workplace. I anticipate cruelty, but the place is deserted. It's a ghost town. I encounter some strangers who look confused. They have no memory of what this building used to be. It's a much nicer place with hardly anyone here. Maybe someone left some pop tarts in a break room.
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In my dreams last night: Carnage at a former workplace. I'm at risk of accusations of cowardice but I don't care because I'll always duck and cover, motherfucker. Major confusion in a minor hospital waiting room. I can't find an address on the West Side. Tyrants, poobahs, and potentates. I watch the youngest stand up to the strongest. Superheroes won't save us and neither will our deified abstractions.
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In my dreams last night: lost loves, the passage of time, a lost cell phone. Heavy chains bind nothing. Am I in Wyoming, Montana, or Port Angeles? I don't remember crossing the bridge. Lost modes of communication. I try to explain my addiction years but can't. What is the difference between an excuse and an explanation? I wonder how much time there is left.
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