I was looking through some of the notes I’ve made on my phone when I discovered this snippet I wrote about four months ago, which I have completely forgotten about. It was about a dream I had – it must have been an especially vivid one because I don’t usually remember my dreams.

It is really kind of random but then again, aren’t all dreams kind of random?

I don’t know how that Faustian part links up to the dream. Whatever it is, here goes:

Two nights ago, I had the strangest dream.

I was in a city that is one half Hong Kong and one half Copenhagen.

I met a hansome actor from Hong Kong who I like. I asked for a picture. My phone’s camera didn’t work.

And I remember thinking in my dream that it must be a dream when you can’t get what you want.

I couldn’t figure that logic out.

Selling your soul to the devil is passé. Everyone has done it. Faust will be so pissed off to know that he’s no longer the cool guy who had traded with Lucifer.



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