Sleep No More was a dream
Sleep No More was a dream, and a gift which I have been given over and over again. In my dad’s words, I’ll have “never gotten it out of my system”. In a best friend’s words, it is “part of my soul”. I’m not ready to leave this place behind, but would I ever be? Process trauma, kiss strangers, dance with witches. If my 20’s were a place and time, they’d be the McKittrick Hotel, 1939. A looking glass hotel to see who does— and doesn’t— love me. Who can see the me behind the mask.
It’s all love.
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