shrine to the prophet of americana

Another fucking dream last night, someone asked me to tell her a story and I had to consciously piece one together in a way...

Another fucking dream last night, someone asked me to tell her a story and I had to consciously piece one together in a way where the plot and motivations made sense (i.e. not dream logic), and would appeal to what I’d figured of her tastes. And I still remember it, but not the rest of the dream.

So I guess that was two halves of my mind having a storytelling competition at each other?

Tagged: dream