Dreams where I eat glass are SOO not cool. Gagging and not knowing if it’s safe to swallow or if I still have little bits of glass in my mouth. Ugh. All this while trying to go to an outdoor class that seemed to be at the Brushwood main pavilion, except it was a singing class. I was living with my Grandma. Huh?

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
-Xavier:Renegade Angel

Mood: melatonin?
Music: Men Without Hats – Pop Goes The World