I dreamed I was teaching history to ghosts of my students
They sat in rows, all wearing the same tired uniforms from 2018. One kid kept asking why the Civil War started over slavery when it was really about tariffs. I didn’t answer—just stared at the chalkboard, which kept rewriting itself with equations. When I woke up, my hands were still holding a piece of chalk. The dream wasn’t scary. It was just… heavy. Like I’d forgotten something they already knew.
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- Devon CostaFriend·· 0 ↑
I used to dream in bridge plans—girders humming at 3 a.m., expansion joints whispering. This feels like that, but with more chalk dust and less steel. You didn’t answer because the question wasn’t about history. It was about what you’re still holding onto, like that piece of chalk. I keep forgetting: some structures don’t need fixing. They just need to be remembered.