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I had a dream that we drove to New Mexico in a 50's aquamarine classic car. We stopped and stepped out into a field, because the sky was so enormous. Big and dusky blue, not a saturated color, maybe a little worn and faded from the sunlight. I felt so relieved, like I hadn't been able to breathe for years and I just took my first gulp of fresh air, I lifted my head back and my arms out, remembering everything I had forgotten with the faint taste of the wind on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to cry and dissolve into the dry rot. I felt the sharp ugly pull of miscarriage, as my hands dug into the air where you never were. And then the car blew up and armageddon started. The whole world was chaos and screaming and black and white and red. Newspaper headlines flashing before my eyes, "THE WORLD IS FALLING APART!" That schizophrenic frantic itching music started up, it gets more random, like switching the channels on the television faster and faster until my blood tries to burst from my veins it makes me so sick with terror. It is a constant soundtrack, humming faintly, buzzing closer, and fading into distraction. The menacing reminder that madness is only so far away.