Dream diary: I'm in a car (seems like a convertible) parked near the beach. I guess the car is mine, since I'm in the driver's seat. Three or so friends are in the car with me. We see someone we recognize headed towards us. I Don't actually recognize him now, but in the dream I recognized him as our teacher, even though I didn't go to school with these friends. As he waves and approaches, I step on the gas, intending to brake immediately as a joke, but I keep accelerating. My friends just laugh, thinking it was a joke, but I start feeling anxious because my body isn't responding to my thoughts. I drive through an intersection onto a one-way road. I say out loud that I meant to turn and head towards the beach. As I'm driving, I'm looking for places to turn around, but the few exits from the road look like they lead nowhere, so I keep driving. Still not feeling like I'm in control of my body, I continue forward as the lane gets narrower and walls appear on either side. (Cont. In replies)
I don't think a lot of people realize how severe light pollution is. If you've been near or in a city your whole life, you've essentially never really seen the night sky. Where I am now, on a clear dark night, I can only see a few stars (or planets etc) here and there. Get far enough away from the lights and you can see not just a dense sea of stars, but the milky way itself. If you look up pictures online, you'd think they're fake but that's what the sky is supposed to look like. If any of yall live somewhere you can still see the stars in all their beauty, I envy you.
Find happiness in the little things. In the beauty of nature. When was the last time you watched the birds flutter from branch to branch? Or took a moment to appreciate the way the orange of the setting sun bathes the sky in splendor? Even the songs the insects sing as evening takes over is a work of art.
I'm back! And I would like to disclose that I was not responsible for what happened to the RMS Titanic on 15 Apr 1912. Or Aberdeenshire on 28 Sep 2022. Or the USSR on 26 Dec 1991. Or Great Britain on 8 June 1793. Or Judæa on 16 Mar 597. Or Ford's Theatre (Washington, District of Columbia) on 14 Apr 1865. Or Bitcoin on 5 Feb 2026. Or Minecraft string textures on 13 Jan 2026. Or Casa Santa Marta (Vatican City) on 21 Apr 2025.
I stare down at the man at my feet. His face is wet with tears and sweat. He grasps at my legs and looks up at me with blurry eyes. "Please..." he whimpers, "no more..." I pause for a moment, listening to him choke on his own breath. He tightens his grip. "I- I have a family..." "Pete and Repeat are in a boat." I begin again. His head lowers as his tears begin to flow again. "Pete falls out. ...Who is left?" His sobbing grows louder. "R-Repeat!" He sputters out. I smile. "Well... If you insist..." The man wails, his body going limp on the ground. "Pete and Repeat are in a boat..."