I cannot remember the words, but I was reading an old paperback detective novel set in Chicago, and the Obamas came up as witnesses of some kind. I found it hard to believe and tried to reread the sentence.
I was dreaming. A non-lucid dream, as usual. The closest thing to lucidity was when I found it hard to believe. I do find that the "jarring thing I found hard to understand" is what I often remember about a dream. Maybe it's just that my dreams are chock full of such jarring things.
Maybe, in my dreams,
I'm constantly wondering how surprising
Everything seems
While rarely recognizing
That I am deep
Asleep.
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