I dream that I travel back to 1891 and I should never do that, I should always go forward, because now I have a small sister, just a child with big, brown, sad eyes, and our father has given her up in marriage. She’s so small, but there’s nothing I can do to help.

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I dream that I’m travelling on a bus with a group of friends. We reach the East Coast and it’s my home town, somehow? A boy with a guitar joins us after I watch his Youtube videos. We dig a long tunnel to the nearest Gucci store, stop at an underground dance party that looks out of West Side Story. We are hideous dancer, we look for a more amateurish party. We noticed another room in the tunnel with beautiful chandelier lights shining in the dark, we stop there but it’s not a dance floor, it’s a church and there are coffins on the benches.