I had a nightmare, fever-induced. I’ve been sick for a few days. I woke up in a panic thinking a prophet had visited me in my dream and informed me that if I didn’t write the book he was about to inspire me with, I would die. As soon as I woke up, I wrote a panic-filled note in my phone with the details so I wouldn’t forget. That was four hours ago and I can’t remember what’s in the note.
But I’m about to go and look. Pray for me.
Oh god. I’m back. This is the note (complete with Taylor Swift reference):
Three for one Special on tow trucks
Not. Yet not yet not this one. She has things to do.
- [ ] Is it better or worse for a hypochondriac to be best friends with a microbiologist
- [ ] I was meant to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me
I was supposed to die of the plague but a time travelling microbiologist came back to save me
Not yet not yet not this one. She’s still got things to do.
They checked the calendar. The 13th.
It’s all just a miscommunication. about Parmesan.
- [ ] Locksley and tumbleweed were waiting the rain
The one with The dreaming boy. The drums. The muses in crayons.