Last night’s dream, it was ordinary and wonderful.

I don’t expect you to read this. I was in another country. On my own. I didn’t speak their language but I understood the words on the signs when I walked around. But I had a bicycle too, and I used that more. I had a bicycle and broadband, which I accessed from time to time in my apartment shared with a few people. We barely met up but made a point to sit in the living room once a week to bullshit and laugh. I had my own room, a lot like the one in my apartment, but with a proper place to keep the few clothes I had.

I had favourite places, I had my books (logically, there is no way I can bring all my books to another country, so any dream with this is a gorgeous dream), it wasn’t like in that Disney movie where the girl walks down the village and everyone’s screaming and singing hello, they just knew my favourites. I am a creature of habit after all.

I had my habits there.
I took them where no one knew them or saw them as condiments to cook me in. Does that make sense? Everything is starting to overlap here. Two decades of city living people speech laughter tears thought and space, convoluted, sharp, like bad wires tangled up. There is no such thing as silence. Stale air is the most resonant thing there is.

The difference between dream and waking was so tangible that I woke up on the verge of a choke. Everything was just too close, everyone and everything I knew arrived, collided on top of me as I grew conscious and I coughed and gasped. History is heavy, and I heard it laugh from my bathroom.

At first this universe was an infinitesimal point. A dot. And then it opened like an umbrella, that big bang. Everything found space to exist, spun itself into existence and planets and gas. The universe accelerates and grows, trying to keep up and accommodate everything placed inside it. Aliens trying to outdiscover each other (maybe). A planet that became a Roman god that became a cartoon dog that became a dwarf planet.

My point is, it becomes too much. Even though everything is so far away from each other and sometimes can’t even find the time to call each other up and go for a drink or a movie, even though we become pathetically distanced, everything is still there, we still orbit, we still have each other identified. The whole time, the universe will eventually get tired of these sloppy connections, iiit’s a small universe aaf ter-all, and to prove its point it will collapse. It is a controversial theory. It is called the Big Crunch. That name is also like the sound our hearts make sometimes, or the sound the teeth makes when it tears out limbs. Everyone suffocates in each other’s gases, planets as plastic balls in the playpen.

That is why I am thankful for my dream. It was ordinary and it was wonderful. I’m hoping it is the rare time I decide to double as a psychic. And that is all.

Sorry, second day of period.