Last night I dreamt I was in Ireland. I’ve never been to Ireland, and it probably doesn’t look like this did, so I don’t know why it was Ireland in particular in the dream but it was. There was a beautiful lake in front of a mountain, and I really wanted to go swimming in it. But I realized I had left my rings sitting someplace, because for some reason in my dream I wore a whole bunch of skull rings and a Class of 2009 ring. Someone had stolen the latter. So I went around trying to find out whodunnit. My brother told me it was Andrew. Andrew Low, from my elementary school, I think it was. Anyway, I eventually gave up the search and decided to go swimming before it got too dark, because the sun was going down. There was still a little bit of light when I got there—but the water was draining out of the lake. I ran across the wet rock to the very bottom, where there was still some water, and let it rush over my ankles. Then I woke up.
P.S. There was also a radio station across from my room that specialized in reggae. What does it all mean? I don’t know.
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