Remembering the Dream, remote dream by Phil
The dream was about remembering the dream. Inside the dream I was anxious to hold on to what wasn’t even there yet. Then the dream itself became a kind of mixture of city and map, so I could simultaneously hold on to what I was doing as I was doing it, but what that was… other than some momentary fumbling with flesh… I can’t remember, until the city became bright yellow and bounded, a layer over the city with the consistency of glistening butter, a golden but soft city. I remember seeing a corner of this and that the wall of it was inclined inwards. That’s all I have retained.