i dreamt i wore a couture dress made of old plastic bags, bright blue and green, strapless, long, too tight. it turns out i was not wearing the couture version but one of several knock-offs that were also in my closet, and this explained the ill fit. the couture one was fraying a bit at the seam but i assured myself that dresses like this one have people to take care of them, professional people, like didn’t lady gaga’s meat dress have its own handler and maybe its own house. the dress will be fine. but then something about a man attacking a lion, or a lion attacking a man, and one being thrown off the other, very dramatic, during a traffic jam with no people, gore and interruption in broad sandy daylight

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