In Close Proximity to Another Person

I was sitting up in bed, late at night, and next to me was a woman, also sitting up and using a laptop for business. A television played across the room that I seemed to watch while actually lost in a daydream. Both of us were, at a minimum, naked from the waist up, with our lower halves concealed under the covers, and clearly we had a history together, possibly a long one. I felt comfortable, and then confused, because all at once I remembered that this was not my life, and I could not possibly be the person in the bed, and who were these people, anyway? Then I woke up.

Possible influences: last night, I watched two intense episodes of Mr. Robot. They are always intense, though. Mr. Robot may have been the conduit. Also, one beer with strong Hops content, decaffeinated tea, and Ramen noodles.

Most folks would, I imagine, brush off as a mere dream the above, but my eyes have been opened to the possibility of soul flight by a Mr. Donald Tyson, among others. It may be just possible, I think, that in a severely limited, weird, often ineffective manner, our minds are capable of visitation with other minds. This is not to be understood in the manner it is portrayed in film, but rather in a prosaic, and as I said, severely limited manner. It is like walking through the fog of war, and catching glimpses betimes of things, elusive, fleeting.