This is my brain on stress
A Dutch blow-up doll needs help crossing the street
Weirdest dream in recent memory:
I was in the Netherlands, helping a distraught inflatable prostitute (about the stature of Anthony Fauci) cross the street, so she wouldn’t get hit by a public transit bus.
“Come on, inflatable prostitute, take my hand!”
When I looked into the bus, which was red, the driver and all the the riders had white cloth surgical masks on their foreheads and wore red polo shirts.
The crosswalk was lit with orange, yellow, red, green, and white led bulbs that protruded just a bit from the pavement.
As I gently dragged her to safety, she struggled not to deflate. Picture those windsock mascots you see at the automotive store, dancing on the sidewalk — distracting you into a car crash at the intersection.
Once on the grassy park, where kids were playing soccer/football, I let go of her hand and sent her off with a warning.
“Be careful, inflatable prostitute.”
WTF?
The Netherlands factoring in is obvious: Dutch farmers under siege by their corrupt, bogus, evil, WEF-controlled government…
The masks & shirts: mass psychotic uniformity and conformity…
The deflating plastic hooker: I’m guessing she represented how obscene hedonism and depravity are debasing humanity.
I may be overthinking the whole thing.
On the other hand, given what we face — unless we fight — it’s no wonder my sleeping brain went bonkers.
This article (‘cuz it’s not an opinion piece) contains information that people need to know. Everyone should lose sleep the way we do; otherwise — we’re toast.
I can only imagine what it might conjure tonight.
Thanks for reading this. I love you guys, but not in the creepy (#PedoHitler) way.