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A recurring dream. Two dreams. In the second the insect, a beetle about the size of a small dog, surprises me by crawling out from underneath a lampshade. It has a purple carapace trimmed with gold. Its parent was what I saw in (I think) a previous dream. Large, brown, and unfed, moving slowly in a dirty tank upstairs. I keep having the same dream, or dreams. Dreams with beetles and dreams without. Dreams in which I am navigating alone through a world which terrifies me. Dreams in which I betray those I love, accidentally, in ways that I can’t explain and do not understand.

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