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I suppose this poem actually requires some explanation.
All the way back in 2004, I had the weirdest dream of my life. It was largely as described above. It took place in a white foggy setting. I was walking with someone to a mutual friend’s house. I know the name of the mutual friend in real life. I do not know with whom I was walking and talking. We arrived and read a note. The dream ended with the above stated ominous warning about two men who speak those two languages. The entire dreams – from the conversation part to the note – was entirely in rhyme.
When I woke up, I felt like my brain had been hacked and I obviously remember the dream pretty vividly even today.
I do not purport to believe that the dream is actually prophetic. I suppose that it might be and that would be ominous. I might also have just eaten a bad burrito or something. In any case, this is not a regular occurrence for me. This poem today is something like a combination of personal biographical record keeping and an homage to that cool thing my brain did during my sleep one time.
If any of you have ever had a dream wherein it felt like you lost control of your own brain, I’d love to hear about it.