Last night, I had yet another dream about the festival from January, but…it felt very different.
It felt like my current self. I was there, but it didn’t feel like I was really truly there: I was fully aware of the fact that I was dreaming, that every person I was was an illusion, that I wasn’t there; that it had already happened and I was living in a memory. It was over. I’d had the time of my life, and I was really back home, dreaming in my own bed. I was on the other side of the thought running through my head at the time, that some day it would all be a memory. Continue reading