I dreamed I was on the Titanic, and we were already sinking. The fish swam past the porthole, but instead of actually doing anything, all I could think about was the aquarium near that porthole—what would the fish in that aquarium think if they could suddenly see their peers in the sea?
This is called: losing yourself in details.
When I woke up I heard that Gorbachev was dead. And just like in that dream, I could only think about what didn’t really matter: that in the 1990s there were a lot of people who said Gorbachev because it gave you an air of expertise (wrongly so). That I had school notebooks with the covers printed with the words ‘perestroika’ and ‘glasnost’, because these were genuinely hip concepts at the time. I thought about the feeling of then that everything would be fine. There was no sinking.