I know you're too narcissistic for that.

Smoking again. It seems to be a given with any dreams I ever have these days.

Then I was in a prison, interviewing two psychopaths. Then *expletive deleted* then I saw blood everywhere. And then three confused people--the inmates and myself. Ugh, the shame of even writing down that bit of the dream.

Then the piano, being played undoubtedly in real life by my brilliant roommate in her studio which is the room next to mine. In the dream I was in a junky little restaurant that looked like it was in southern Missouri. The piano player was in the next room and he was a black man who had the looks of a wise person. He smiled when I gushed compliments about his piano skills. Then I noticed all the framed photos on the walls around our table. In nearly every single one was somebody playing a trumpet. I asked the people I was with if they noticed a pattern or thought it was funny, so many pictures of trumpet players. I stood there confused and unable to move until the piano player stopped playing, came into the room, and slammed a trumpet case down onto the table. "Well I play the trumpet, bitches!" he exclaimed, and everyone laughed. "But you play the piano so well," I told him. "Fuck that piano," said he while he flapped his hand towards the direction of the piano room. "This is my real medicine." He picked it up and started blowing away, blaring some aggressive jazz melody that sounded like an angry bee.

Then the last part of the dream. I was on skype and still had Jorge in my list of contacts. I clicked on his picture and a video popped up. It was him hanging himself with the cord of a record player. I cried and screamed and tried to run to his apartment but the friends who were with me held me down and wouldn't let me go.