I had a dream last night in which I walked a lot. I walked by buildings, and palm trees, and by a young mother grabbing her child out of a building that was swaying where it stood. I walked by some snow, and some brown apartments, I walked by a little boy being born in a hospital in November, I walked right on by when the children at the blue playground called my name. I had no time for them just this night. I remember a bay mare, and falling on a haybale twice in one day, I remember a little girl crying with utter joy when a soft black nose prodded her from inside a stall. I remember anguish and hatred for God when her beautiful pride lay on an operating table in alabama. Tastes of fear, throughout it all. I remember having to close my eyes sometimes, but I could still hear it all. I could still absorb it all. I am still absorbing it all. Sometimes others held hands with me on my walk; there was a fat one, and a small one, and a blonde one, and a tall one, and an obsessed one, and a short one whom I cared a lot for and still do. There were four refusals of disgust and one tearing of the heartstrings. I'm still walking, I guess. All I can see ahead is mist, and all I can see behind me is a mess of noise, but it's all been worth it. I woke up with a headache and a runny nose.