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Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These
I've been dreaming repeatedly and vividly about tending to small animals recently- small fish and guinea pigs mostly. The dreams aren't good or bad- mostly it's hours(?) worth of fastidiously deciding how much income I can dedicate to their food, housing and well-being and then monitoring their needs indefinitely. You know, giving them a nice variety of foods and removing their waste and whatnot.

I don't think I've quite had a series of dreams like this in my life- normally there's a horrific sub-narrative, fear, pain, being trapped, wrongness in physicality more than gore (a rat with no face for instance), struggling to steal sustenance for myself in a non-Euclidian wasteland enveloped in sandstorms as I'm being pursued by cops.


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