The Subconscious Concedes: My Dream Life Is More Exciting Than My Real Life
Last night I dreamed I and a random soap opera character were involved in a particularly convoluted government conspiracy (which, of course, made perfect sense at the time). As we attempted to escape without being detected, we suddenly heard muffled blasts and were shot--he in the leg and I in the upper chest.
The very first thing I thought upon realizing that a bullet had just ripped open my flesh was "Ah. At least now I'll have something to write about in my LJ."
I don't know. Today I find that a little disturbing.
It did indeed, however, provide me with something to write about in my LJ.
The very first thing I thought upon realizing that a bullet had just ripped open my flesh was "Ah. At least now I'll have something to write about in my LJ."
I don't know. Today I find that a little disturbing.
It did indeed, however, provide me with something to write about in my LJ.