Remember that dream about Lonnie Donegan I told you about?
I said I saw him on a sunny day playing Rock Island Line in the street, but he was standing in the shadows. I made eye contact with him, concerned about him, but he sort of gestured with his hand that he was all right.
Well, the next day I read in the paper that he had just died. At the time, I thought he had died on Sunday afternoon, maybe 8 hours after my dream. But no. I discovered recently that he died about 3 hours before my dream. Meaning I received news of his death before I woke up and before the media knew anything about it
That is maybe the best example of the proof of my mystical dreams, that they are not fantasy or an overactive subconscious
Anyway, I've been refining my strategy for my poetry
9 collections before I'm 70
After a few arguments, AI agrees with me that a modern poet who surpassed Shakespeare could quickly sell a billion books
Obviously, I'm not a fan of AI but I do enjoy winding it up now and then with my crazy plans and schemes
And obviously, it can do one if it wants to know about my actual poetry
I don't want those metal muthas stealing my ideas, you dig?
Educational
