Awkward half-echo of a dream, where I grew apocalyptically big, so that I was standing in front of a grey many windowed skyscraper.
I split it open like a fruit. The inside of the building filled with hundreds of tall strips of gold, all the length of the skyscraper except for a few fractured bits at the top. Somehow v. important that I extract these gold lines, but could only manage the fractured bits. I needed it to perform some spell, something that would makes things irrevocably better.
A charm that required fractured gold and would somehow fix the wrong.
Dissolving into me in a darkened parking garage trying to enact the charm and being interrupted by assailants, ninja-esque, me putting my fists up to protect myself, more importantly, the charm. Woke with my wrists bent over, sore.
Reflections on publicity
1 week ago