Normally, when I dream of killing people (which is a lot), I’m afterwards consumed with this horrible realization that I’ve cancelled out my own life’s possibilities as well by indelibly staining it with something so awful. And then I worry about what will happen in jail, but last night was different.

I don’t remember who or why I killed but I remained rather level-headed and got on a train with the intention of going as far south as possible. Eventually after stopping, working, and making enough money to head further south I would hopefully end up at the southern end of Chile eventually- far from the law. And I had a peaceful feeling that I’d be over the heinous act in a couple of years or so- never completely, but to a point where I could maybe be happy again. And now I’m awake and the feeling of hopefulness has carried over.