It's not my fault I constantly dream of weird stuff. This time there were as many as two, but short ones.
In one dream, we are already living under the rule of the Russian Empire. A new service has been introduced at the tax agency. Returning home, I discovered that there were already cryptocoin search inspectors in my apartment. They calculated that I had $28 million worth of them (why not rubles?)
Surprised, I asked where that much came from. They replied that they have special robots for finding coins. I wondered, how did they figure out these were my coins?
Passport details aren't linked to transactions. And where they are linked, those are Western companies, and they won't give data to Russia.
To this, I was informed that they didn't mean bots, but real robots, micro-robots at that. These critters search the apartment and find all paper crypto wallets, hardware USB wallets, and so on.
I almost fell off my chair at such an advancement of robotics in Russia, of course, considering they currently don't even manufacture processors smaller than 200nm, let alone have their own lithography machines. And I'd only have 28 million in coins if bitcoin goes up a hundred, or even two hundred times.
This was, of course, a nightmare brought on by the fact that I had covered myself with two blankets. You shouldn't overheat in your sleep, my friends!
When I forced myself awake by sheer willpower, I felt sick for another 10 minutes, unable to come to my senses or even breathe normally.
The second dream was of a pornographic and artistic nature, so I won't go into details. Plus, it's too LGBT for the comfort of many readers. I'll just say the main character was an artist guy who tattooed dicks as a hobby. But in reality, he was a famous graphic surrealist.
P.S. Finally - something completely funny. A couple of days ago during my sleep, without really waking up, I inexplicably unscrewed the lightbulb from the nightlight! At the same time, I didn't drop it, but carefully laid it down next to the pillow. This is quite mysterious to me myself. What for? Why didn't I drop it? The human soul is a mystery.