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I wish I'd felt like getting up and writing my dream down. But at 1:00 a.m. all I wanted to do was go back to sleep which I did.
The dream seemed unusually coherent. In it I'd somehow massively damaged the planet. The surivors were mightily miffed. Even though I'd done it out of spite I felt repentant. I was torn between fleeing to another planet and dying with the Earth.
Abruptly I was riding in a truck with someone when steel walls suddenly dropped down around me and I woke up.
My misanthropic teenage self would've paid to have this dream. Don't know what might've prompted it now.