Dreamt

It's a brutally cold day; everything's icy, so my guess is February or an especially cold March. I'm running through the town of Potsdam, and this isn't that frustrating drowning-in-caramel type of dream running, but rather the really liberating kind where you take outrageously long strides and your jacket flaps behind you. I realize at some point that Lil Wayne is also bounding through the streets too, matching my pace ahead of me, and rapping/auto-tuning/whatever you care to call it all the while. He starts leaping from building to building on Main Street; I think he jumped from the roof of the movie theater over to the Clarkson Inn. The sky is barren white and the trees dark and spindly. I can see our breath.

With one last flailing jump, he's on top of Sergi's as seen from behind, near Videorama and the laundromat, where THINK POSITIVE is spraypainted on the brick. There's a crowd at this point, and he either tosses or lowers something down. It's the frozen-stiff body of a small girl, who I take to be his daughter. There's a note pinned to her lapel with a variety of medical information, and it explains that her heart has been removed and put on ice for use as a transplant. He's still up on the roof, grieving her death. Now a red and white picnic cooler is lowered down.

Somehow, Lil Wayne has performed the necessary surgery on his dead daughter to harvest her heart for an organ transplant.