This morning between 5 and 8:30 I was dreaming of asteroids. The entire night sky was filled with huge spheres falling to the ground slowly, almost gently. The moon was nearly obscured by what looked like an eclipse but was really part of the shower of planetoids. I called people I know to tell them to look out their windows. A pine tree with three people stuck in its topmost branches crashed gently into my room; the people disembarked, unscathed and grateful to be inside a house. One half of a spherical spaceship fell into the front yard, then the other half. The spaceship was a badge of honor later at the bar, where people--including my college friends--were gathered at 4 in the morning to talk about all the crazy crap falling out of the sky. At the bar, I ordered something that I now feel is complete genius and needs to be invented immediately: the muffintini. It was basically a boozy ice cream drink with a muffin baked on top of it, crusty with sugar and berry juice, served in a pint glass. I was shirtless for a lot of the dream.
In real life news, or perhaps by way of explaining why I might be having dreams with such heavy-handed motifs as the falling sky, I've moved out. I'm not going to talk about it here; I just wanted to explain why I am probably going to have a lot of funny, regressive tales of staying with my parents in upcoming posts. I will say just once for the record that I'm still in love, still have hope for the future, and feel and look rather tragic. I'm prepared for this state to persist.