More dreams, arriving in last night's broken sleep, and in a catnap. Dreams of darker days are my lot now, it seems, in the world of the dreams. The me in the dreams, truly, is twisted sideways, but recognizably me. It feels odd having the memories of this other me, of seeing and feeling her thoughts and emotions, and tasting them. they taste familiar, true, like me, and like my own memories and life here.
Things happened to her that I do not know, do not care for. She did things I would like to think I would not, and yet... that she... that she feels like me.
And I do not know if I am more her, or she is more me, or if, really, there is a difference now.