I am a dreamer. My memories are like a cassette tape. LIFE’S MIXTAPE. Side A being the truth, and Side B being the dream. Eventually, the tape gets worn and I can’t tell the difference between the sides. I no longer mind the warping tune that emits from the dream. I accept my ability to create it as a form of genius. The dream will become the truth as I become a better me. No more sides. No regrets. Just a mixtape with my windows down.