Now it’s seldom any more than once or twice a month and I’m grateful for it. My dreams aren’t the lovely, flying, gracious dreams. Mine are the ones that make you feel like you’ve been hit by a fucking train and had a bucket of water thrown over you just for good measure. I think it’s because I’m not afraid any more, I’m not avoiding the future, I’m embracing it. I can’t wait to see where this ends up.