Memory of a Dream in anticlimatic

Had a dream a few years ago I can barely remember. A couple, maybe around the same time. There is something about the way I am feeling now that hearkens back to the way I felt in those dreams. I think I may have written them down somewhere. Maybe here. Though I never go back and read anything after I’ve written it. I wonder how often I repeat myself…

Something about a kitchen, in the first dream. Like an old, restaurant-grade, empty kitchen in a white brick building under the bright sun. Doesn’t matter. It’s the feeling at play, and the feeling is indescribable. The second dream involved sorting my position out, again in some kind of square structure.

What’s that feeling, though? Something eerie…of things hiding beneath the banal routine surface of living.