I stopped remembering my dreams back in like 2009, when the pain from my nerve damage got to its original apex. It was kind of awful. Felt like losing color. Or like the color on a map... or I guess, on a map... like losing the topography. It still meant something to attend to the messages my brain gave me when I was sleeping, but they were so few and far between, so tiny... and then just gone...
Recently, they've been coming back. █████ was in one. Wanted me to do something. Urgently.
Probably because I need to make decisions.
Last night, I was captured. Struggling to get free. I managed to make it out, just barely.
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That's always been the way. Slipping through doors that are closing, or finding some half-secret back door. Never invited properly, never really welcomed.
An escape artist.