ast night I dreamt that I was employed as a suicide prevention specialist in ancient Mesoamerica. We had no phones then so no hotline to call or anything like that. I held these gatherings going place to place for people to tell me their stories and songs and stories and songs about others. If anything seemed amiss with someone’s emotional ideation we would bring them into crafts therapy of various kinds, employing them meaningfully. Sometimes I would bring them to help me with my work. In my dream depression, anxiety, and suicide were pervasive in the gritty and
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