Holy crap have the dreams been weird with this thing.

I dreamt of an alternate January 1916 or so where the people that would go on to become the Bolsheviks were secretly nigh immortal sorcerers and shit. They turned the tide of WWI, mopping the floor with Germany especially. That one was the weirdest.

Then the second one involved meeting up with a very fictional “old friend” of mine. We spoke about software vs hardware, and she said that it seemed to her that software was often written by people that hated themselves and the user. But hardware is crafted by people who hate themselves, the user, and the world, and want to see it all burn.

And in the third dream, I was some trust fund kid going to high school in Manhattan. My dad wanted to teach me the value of business or some shit, so I bought a club. Business was really good, so when I found out the prom afterparty was being run by a fucking stick in the mud, a bunch of friends and I decided to boycott it. I recalled a post I had seen that said something to the effect of “very little in life can’t be improved by three things: weed, Popeye’s chicken, and Looney Tunes reruns.” So I decided to test that theory. I had my faithful manservant purchase vast quantities of the devil’s finest lettuce, buckets upon buckets of chicken, and convert the main part of the club into a comfy sitting area. It turned out to be the best part of prom 🤣

I hope you enjoyed this nonsense from my cooked brainhole.

-Allēna