|sent from: London, UK. destination: DeKalb, Illinois, USA|
As work pressure increases my sleep becomes cracked and fragmented, dreams troubled and restless. In one I am living in California again, and need to borrow a car from people who are involved in drug deals and worse. Leaving the car for a weekend I return to find the police have seized it and are selling it for parts right there on the spot, in order to pay for a massive fine that I now owe them. Despite this I still owe about $10,000; worse, I have to go tell the drug dealers that I no longer have their car. I know this is news that they wont tolerate. In another, I am in the private residence at the White House, and come across the Obamas entertaining a guest. They invite me to join them. They are warm, friendly, smart, engaging; a fantasy to please this semi-liberal’s heart. Their children are numerous, a mix of ages and confusingly races too. After, with hugs exchanged with both of them, I asked their white older teenaged daughters if there’s a private way out of the there. They show me the through the gardens, a sprawling complex of grass fields where children play. At the edge is a clothes shop, a famous youth brand. I go in and the girls help me pick out a new outfit. All I can think is: I can’t wait to put this on facebook. And then I wake up.