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May 10th, 2013

Dream-Me was on a mission. The past two (two!) nights, Dream-Me, whether riding a futuristic-looking version of the D.C. Metro or sneaking half-naked through a stranger's house, was clearing the way for...someone. Someone important. Someone who needed help. Someone who I needed to help and was motivated to help.

Until I realized wait. I'm helping a dream-person. Who is this person? Maybe some version of me, maybe*. But not really me-me. I'm jumping through hoops for someone -- or something -- that doesn't actually exist.

And I decided It's OK, Dream-Me: you're allowed to dream of what would help ME.

G'mornin'. This is me.




* The someone wasn't even named, but that someone was a she -- and at least, as much as I can remember, she was someone cute...

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