Last night I dreamed that I was standing at the foot of a giant turn-of-the-century stage in an old wood theatre, waiting for my turn to perform music. Suddenly, I realized that everyone was waiting for me. I had been sitting there reading something from Hemmingway. I took my book, mounted the stage, and began to arrange my equipment. All I had was a damper pedal that was supposedly hooked up to a kick drum sound-effect, some other type of pedal, and an acoustic guitar.

I started playing, but was saddened when I saw that everyone was walking away from the stage (which was easily 2 stories high). Also my microphone kept swinging away from my mouth. I was getting frustrated.

But then I started to sing.

When I sang it was like there were hundreds of me. My voice could duplicate itself like those Tibetan monks, only way, way cooler. I started wailing like Robert Plant, Celine Dion and Roger Daltry combined, but nobody seemed to care. No one was even looking at me. They were all talking amongst themselves. Then I figured it out. It was all in my head. People couldn’t hear it they way I was hearing it. They didn’t hear the multitude of voices. They only heard one voice, screaming away like a maniac.

I sadly finished my song and headed off stage. Nobody applauded. Nobody congratulated me on my effort. Nobody said anything. Then I woke up.