i wonder if my life is a dream. i wonder if the summers in europe were a dream. did i really march on the the arc de' triumph that hot day in july? march to the top and stand victoriously overlooking paris? did i really dance in the streets of amsterdam, ride the trians in frankfurt drunk, holding onto a pretty german girl for fear i would lose her forever if i let go? what about that night on the metro? were there german soldiers sleping next to me? did i really see a cowboy puppet show?
this is making me think of past lives. can you really re-write your own history? history is always recored by the victors. can i be victorious over my own life?