I remember my drunk dreams more vividly than my sober ones.
So last night (or early this morning), I dreamt there was a man in a black suit, standing in the middle of nowhere. And anybody that would walk up to him, would be “saved” by a single touch. So I thought, oh cool, I’ll give it a try. As I walked up to him, he put his hands down and said, “No. Not you.” I was like, “What the fuck, are you serious?” He said I couldn’t be saved because I had to make up for all the shit that I’d done in my life. I said, “Okay. I can do that.” Then the motherfucker says to me, “You only have two hours.” I nearly cried. I was so close to saying, “Fuck it, take me now!”, because I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to right every one of my wrongs in two fucking hours. It felt so real. I could even feel the last breath of death crawling under my skin.