Can't sleep, so I take a walk down to the men's baths, a corner of which borders a brothel. When the soap bubbles rise above my head, I find
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Replying to @DreamContents
that the Prostitute has transformed into a Strange English Man. He's quite amiable, though—offers to sell me drugs. I assent. His dealer is
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Replying to @DreamContents
…down the way by the train station. It's a remarkably Derelict Englishman. "What is it?" I'm referring to the coarsewhite powder cut in bags
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"Don worry friend, it's the good stuff" "But what IS it" "Gratis, courtesy o the boss" "How do I take it?" "Any way you wan, friend…
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Replying to @DreamContents
"You can snort it, chew it up, inject it, whaever works, whaever gets you there" "How much do I take?" He grunts. Not worth answering, seems
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Replying to @DreamContents
In the end, I snort the whole line off the sidewalk, board the train, and have many zany adventures. The next day I try to find the two men,
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but while some seem to recognize the names, I can't find conclusive evidence that either ever existed.
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@DreamContents dream evidence, dream epistemology
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