I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that the most terrifying words in the English language were, "I want to tell you about my dream."
Nevertheless, I persist.
Last night, I came out of a train station in Berlin (a city I've never visited in my daytime life) but instead of a valise or luggage I had only a banjo case, with a banjo inside and room for a couple of pair of socks at most. But I thought, I have cash and I can buy clothes. Then I looked in my wallet and found only a couple of one-dollar bills. I thought, now I'm in trouble. Nevertheless, I persisted, and set out for my hotel. Then it started to rain, pour actually, and I realized that I wasn't wearing proper shoes, just flimsy slippers. Next I came to understand that I had no idea where to find my hotel.
So there I am with a banjo on my knee but nowhere to go, no cash, no proper clothes, no hotel, in an unfamiliar strange city.
But now comes the "agency" part. I announce, to no one in particular, "I don't want to be in this dream." And I woke up.
I'm very proud of myself for taking charge. A good precedent for tomorrow's nightmare.
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