An Interrupted Dream

Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, it’s the middle of the night, I couldn’t sleep, I was dreaming, which isn’t usually a big deal, but I had to stop the dream I was having, it was one of those dreams that wake you up in a sweat, you shake it off and go back to sleep, but the dream starts back up and continues on, then you wake up again and the whole thing cycles clear through the night until your brain wants to drop out of your head when the alarm clock goes off, so I am up out of bed at three AM eating a butter sandwich and drinking a soothing warm mug of cocoa with gin in it, say, when did Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble become transvestites, they were always a couple pretty straight stone pounders back in the day, you know, quarry men, not queery men, is this that Mandela Effect I’ve heard so much about, god, either this world is fucked up or I’m fucked up, I’m putting my money on the world, but no matter, I don’t want to ever sleep again, Paulie is gonna stay awake and never sleep, alert in the driver’s seat, loud tunes screaming from the console, coffee steaming out of the cup holder, a French cigarette between my two fingers, sending up smoke signals that say us Indians are attacking at sunup, we are clear headed and we can see the whites of our enemies’ eyes, our quivers are heavy, our bows are bent full, we shall scream at dawn like the angry hawk, well, this is Paulie screaming his love loud to his people, Paulie screams an ear splitting “Shalom my dear loved ones”, oh, and to the rest of you, Paulie screams a nails on the chalkboard “Go to hell”…

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