I keep a notebook under my desk so I can write all my dreams down, or at least what of them I remember when I wake. Spending hours scanning the pages for some indication that these dreams and life might somehow intertwine. Because more than anything, I just want to believe it; that we all end up just where we should. And we can all have faith in the decisions we make under shelters of concrete and wood. So I evaluate the options I’m presented with. Navigate these notions of embarrassment. Long to learn “are my laments legitimate?” but it has taken hold.