But I am endlessly tired. I stayed up reading all night and had really strange dreams.
I was in some city in Northern Germany and they were prosecuting a rapist who was really famous for all the art he did around the city. I had a bib on and people were dragging me into the heart of the riot. The man was in chains, he saw my bib and tore it off. They threw him into an outdoor cell to watch as people were about to destroy all his works. They threw paintings in my hands and told me to start ripping them. So I did what I was told. They splashed paint, they punched and tore... and for some reason I started to cry. All of the wreckage went down in some stone tunnel. I found a broken suitcase, sat on it and collapsed weeping. A guy who looked like Diana's son came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. 'This is really weird. I... I hate it. Its so weird. They are so angry.' He nodded and agreed that it was very weird. He took my hand and I woke up.
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