Last Night

I peed in a bucket at 3 AM because it's "dangerous" to go outside. I came pretty close to overflowing the bucket.

And today I shall learn to hand wash my clothes. Hopefully I will be done in time to come back to campus for Community Worship which is always an intense time.

My dreams are vivid as anything. Last night I had a dream about having a dream. I remember all of it. In my dream, Mom told me I was dreaming so I began hitting myself to wake up. I felt the pain but did not wake up and hence actually thought I wasn't dreaming. Then I tried to open my eyes but it didn't work. So I thought even more that I was in reality. Then I woke up and began to tell my brother Sam that I was dreaming. Then after some insignificant events I woke up again. Then it was reality, but I went back to sleep and dreamt a few dreams pertaining to martyrdom. I never actually feel asleep here. I get rest and all, but these meds make dreams a reality, which is funny because Taylor writes in the Primal Vision on the African view of dreams and how they are considered to be ultra real and it all seems so fitting and I'm really good at creating run on sentences but not quite as good as Don Miller who wrote Blue Like Jazz which we get to read some excerpts from for class tomorrow although I am already done reading them because I'm ahead of my reading schedule due to so much of what Americans would consider to be "downtime," although Africans, according to Taylor, consider this time to be time to be in simple presence with people.