I only remember my ereyesterday’s dream. A bit weird.

There was a war, against people past a hill. We fought with old muskets and knives. Sort of. Those muskets could be loaded 5 times in advance, and shoot 5 shots.
I’ve enjoyed killing. It filled me with joy seeing a bullet go through someone’s head or chest. We ran out of bullets, I picked up another musket that still had 2. Went back to the hill, firing both shots. Then I again went down and picked a large cleaver. Ready to chop into any enemy at arm distance, I ran back.
An enemy was at reach, when all of a sudden, the war has ended.
I couldn’t get over it. My purpose was to kill, to slash, to shoot, now it was over. I had no purpose, all I ever could do was gone. No more killing.

I don’t know what to make out of it.

I had a dream I worked a single doordash order and I hated it.

I had a dream where my wife used my Good Scissors to cut shitty cardboard. I had to sharpen and tighten and adjust the curve on them and everything it sucked. I told my wife about it and she was mad at her dream self, so I know I got a good one.

Last night, I had a dream that fucking Kevin came into the house with a raw chicken like fucking Dionysius, and he just laughed, swinging it around, spraying chicken juice all over everyone and everything. I am so mad.

ugh. this is just ~ he didnt listen in my dream ~ except instead of he its she

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