Y'know that feeling, when you suddenly find out that a whole bunch of seemingly unrelated small things were actually all leading together to set up for one massive event?
Y'know, like everything is totally interconnected?
Yeah.
Turns out, all (or, well, most) of my fucked-up dreams are actually just one massive narrative about that British guy and the Public Affairs Scholars' program that's secretly a cult of necromancers and the Evil Sorceress whose only name is "Evil Sorceress" and the Squirrel King (both the former one and the current one who isn't actually a squirrel) and the constant car rides on these dark meandering roads in the middle of the night and the talking Kabuki mask and--
I don't think it gets any saner after that.
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