The dream was,, eh, something fleeting. In a large hotel, writing letters to someone. The nature of the letter writing is unknown , think it was a girl, I can’t tell,,,and it’s gone. Just like that.
Blue carpet, glass half walls. White tile.
Actually it might have been an airport , writing letters.
I only say “fuck your God” when I look at you, look at how you do. I could dial that back, absolutely, how about “fuck your books?”
Makes more sense.
Man is shady, he would make strict rulebooks to keep you in bounds. For money. Yep,,,,
Melatonin, but every so often you have to cold turkey for a month, just to reset your tolerance… once it’s reset?
Lovely.
Lovely deep sleep.
Very nice.
I it was a love letter, I was writing affection to someone, and I was in a very large place with other people, but I wasn’t paying attention to them.
Dreams shake off in less than a minute, bizarre stuff, you start your day and peel yourself away from where you were, not a solid or a liquid, dreams must be a gasious state. Something you can’t quite identify. Cool shit. Sometimes .
“mother fucker I’m a monster in this game, similar to the Loch-Ness. My rhymes are nappy rooted, some verses got a process”- Ludacris.
Love Luda ❤️ funny dude.
dawn 