I dreamt of Kristen Miao. We were dating. She was
very seductive and fairly sweet and pleasant, with a tinge of sarcasm salting
her personality.
A large part of the dream concerned the Marching Band. I
saw again Jason Wolf, looking cocksure yet stripped of all vestiges of paternal
authority, appearing as a boyish peer.
The plot seems redundant to mention at this point. A
long stretch of the dream was set in an extensive video game that was not yet
at the degree of dramatic intricacy that predated my internment at the
hospital, yet was mounting. The game began on a playground. dm.A.A.
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