Omaha

What is it like to have ideas when you’re awake

Dream: It’s the fourth of July in Omaha, Nebraska. I don’t want to eat the American cake that is handed to me by a woman without a face. But I eat it anyway. It tastes like fabric. It is made of flags. “Why would you prepare¬†this cake in this way,” I ask. But it’s too late. I am trapped in the parking garage.

Here’s a picture I took

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