So I’m going to write about the one I had last night.
I was working for this agent-type in New York, and we were trying to book Adele’s first or next or best U.S. tour. We were wooing her hard but she was just so aloof and great and we knew that we couldn’t do it, we just wanted to be around her. She wore one of those scarves that ladies wrap around their heads.
Also, Adele was a whale…or like, could turn into a whale.
That’s not a crack on Adele’s size. Adele is fucking great and awesome, so of course she’s a whale. Whales are the shit. Whales in my dream-universe are one step ahead of humans. Enlightened. I sort of believe that about whales in real life, but in this world they could talk.
So we took her to the 9/11 Memorial, which was this huge cyclopean underground tunnel full of water and soft white light and we swam around and then she like sonared into my head:
We grow tired
we will leave
thank you
HOLY SHIT I JUST HAD TELEPATHY WITH ADELE. God I didn’t want that dream to end. I felt so safe and good. Best dream I’ve had in years.
Then I dreamed that I was on Top Chef and a fellow contestant killed himself by eating too much of this blue caviar-like fungus. Why did they give it to us as an ingredient, then? HUH?
