I think my new brain pills are doing something

The dreams are coming so fast they blend together. hot and violent and crisp and vivid and wonderful, an explosion of ideas. They might be fully lucid but just going so fast I can't really keep up.

I wake up in my bed and I start flying. When I realize I'm dreaming my instinct is always to fly - sometimes I test if I'm dreaming by trying to fly - and I've been trying to extend my range of dream powers. Create a dream lover. Go to a dream place. Shape a dream body. The last one is becoming a more and more urgent need, I tend to wake myself up in the scramble to be a girl. Why isn't it happening? Why am I so bad at being trans? I should have a woman's body the moment I wake up in a dream if that's who I really was.

So I wake up in my bed and start flying, over and over.

My brother is there, and he seems to think flying is embarrassing but I do it anyway, trying to show him how fun it is. I pop up in an exhilarating burst of speed and come to rest on my back on the ceiling and laugh, daring him to come after me.

I'm crawling on the walls - literally - trying to make my way outside, but I'm so excited I can't fly straight.

I'm scared to touch my body, because it all feels right but I don't know what my hands are going to find.

Every piece of junk I've ever owned is filling my apartment, piles of banana boxes covering the floor. I can't get off the ground because there's no room. I come to realize the symbolism of my baggage getting in my way because I can't let it go even as it's happening.

Somehow I'm floating in deep space with no idea where the Earth is and my body shoots away at the speed of light and I get scared because I'm obviously never going to find it again. But it occurs to me I don't need it, I'm now a liberated consciousness free to explore the inner galaxy, free to expand through the cosmos. This could be what death is like. If only we could let go of that attachment to that meat we imagine is apart and separated from all the rest of space and time just because we live in it, a half-formed thought tells me as I wake up from the fear.

I go to open my bedroom window to get out that way and realize the kids playing in the snow pile outside can see into my second floor apartment - that happens in the winter - and I'm naked. I look down at myself and I'm suddenly not so worried about scarring the kids. In fact I have a crazy urge to go out there like this, to fly up and display myself to the public. It's not so bad to get arrested for streaking if you're a girl, is it? I mean I'm sure the sentence is the same but people don't care as much.

I keep imagining it, vividly, for at least a quarter hour after I wake up. Gliding through the air butt naked, probably invisible because people never look up but still showing them who I am in case they do. But mostly I have the sky to myself. I am beautiful and wild and free. I'm aware of hot rain running over my small, sensitive breasts. I turn around slowly, upside down, and watch the Earth rise in the gap between my legs.