idk what traumatized or mentally ill person needs to hear this but dreams (especially the really disturbing ones you dont want to talk about to anybody) arent some deep peek into your psyche or a sign of your True Desires or whatever theyre quite literally your brain making fruit salad with whatever it can find on the shelf. just putting all that shit in a blender and hitting obliterate. its fine, youre fine, youre not a weirdo for it
sometimes the side chick ain’t even a chick sometimes it’s the dessicated corpse of a past you venerate and mythologize in your mind but can never return to because that is the only place it ever existed










