I had the raddest fucking dream last night

I don’t remember where/how the dream started, but I’m being pursued through the woods by cops for knocking over a flower pot or some stupid shit. I’m running for my life, and I find this old Schwinn up against a dead tree. It shows signs of rust, yet… it glistens. Almost magically. Fuck it, I think to my dream-self. It’s magic.

Cue the music from E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial when they fly up and away from the cops on their bikes. I laugh and shout down as i ascend: “COME ON UP FUCKERS!”

I love when my dreams cut to third person shots, and that’s exactly what happens right here. I crest the moon, and quickly soar far beyond the reach of the law.

The rest of the dream involves me cruising at 45-55 mph (somehow, but fuck it, the bike is magic, right?) and calling people queers at stoplights and then going vertical and laughing when they get out of their cars to get at me.

Rad fucking dream.