a subway car through my unconscious
I had an extraordinarily satisfying dream last night. I don't usually like my dreams; they're not nightmares but they seem filled with the sort of low-grade anxiety and general confusion I have in my waking life (albeit with more bizarre ingredients). I usually wake up feeling cheated: it's my chance to change everything so why can't I be dating Stephen Fry? Or fly around as a bumblebee?
Last night I was on a subway car with a large group of young cool knitters. There were heaps of cool club clothes and incomplete projects all around the car, making me feel at home right away. I complained about this year's winner of the Polaris Prize and they all agreed. I found some cool unfinished objects I didn't remember starting. There were cute guys flirting with me. It was pretty wonderful.
Of course, upon waking I realized that once again, this dream wasn't anything to brag about. Sure, I woke up happy, but how could I explain it to muggles?
So I'm telling you.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*