Claustrophobic conspiracies
The earth is flat. Michael Jackson lives. A reptilian-led secret society dominates humanity.
This week our dreams gave us alternative facts.
But our new-found truths did not set us free.
Shadowy organizations cast a dark cloud. Red-cloaked visitors huddled in the corner of our bedrooms.
Tight, suffocating grip instead of expansive illumination.
Intricately leather-bound books were discovered in forests. We didn’t have time to snatch their wisdom before looming trees closed in on us.
We were catapulted to the edges of outer space, but crushed to death inside tiny transport pods.
If knowledge is power, then this week our dreams were devoid of both.
I was in some sort of cell, very small. And because I did something wrong I lost my window privilege. So suddenly the windows close, and I am in a coffin trying not to panic.
