That night, that dream, that strange understanding of the environment. The biggest thing about that dream that I like to bottle up and witness again was the end. I was falling to my death, but I wasn't afraid. I saw the bottom, but wasn't falling to it. I grabbed a branch that was hanging as I fell. And then I reached down to help a man and a woman, then I was crushed and awaken by a falling bolder. I'd open the bottle every night before I go to sleep. I'd be left with that, strange, confusion that I haven't experienced ever sense that dream when i open it, being trapped in a glass prion that we call just the bottle.
