Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: Robert Banh

You’re hardly even sposed to tell people about your dreams, much less write about them, but I have had such a bizarre collection of REM-thought in the past few days that I can’t help it.

1.) In this one I was the child in a terrorist family. They were all about to commit ritual suicide, but I wasn’t ready to die. So I escaped out of the second-story window of a house that looked much like that of my childhood, and began to roll down hill after hill. Except they weren’t so much hills as broccoli, and I was rolling over the tops of huge broccoli trees. And then I woke up.

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