I dreamed I could switch between being white and black. I decided to stay black most of the time because I was getting more hugs from my friends.
I don't particularly like hugs.
* * *
I dreamed I was in a huge art exhibit, but no one was calling it art. I walked up to other people wandering around this giant space filled with useless objects and asked them what is it all? Who put this here? What does it mean? They said something about funding and getting paid. But it was most definitely not art. One woman with braids all over her head told me to please shut up.
* * *
I dreamed that I had finished writing a book that was brilliant and sweet and just thinking about its message and the characters made me cry.
I woke up from that dream and couldn't write that day.
* * *
I dreamed that someone killed my dogs and wore their skins. I called the police and said these people! they're the ones! They had to be the ones who killed my dogs. The police refused to investigate. Everyone's wearing skins these days. How do you know those are your dogs? I was horrified to realize that the police were right. Everyone had furry skins slung over their chests. The sight made me furious, but also a little sad, because, well. Once again, I was not going to be fashionable. Left out of the loop again.