Armageddon, Chicago, and Being Less Square.

I had this dream last night about the Apocalypse. The sky was a giant screen with words written on it, kind of like a scroll. The only word I remember is "Judgement". I suppose that doesn't help all that much, but given the strong association with that word alone, and the Apocalypse, I probably don't need too many more hints.
I don't remember how I actually died, or the actual act of dying but I know I transcended into some other dimension, one that indicated I was dead. Weirdest dream of my life. Not in the Holy-Shit-The-Apocalypse-Is-Here sort of way (though maybe it is) but in the How-Are-People-Capable-Of-Feeling-This-Cosmic kind of way. I don't know. Strange, but not a nightmare.

I'm back from my weekend-stay in Chicago.
As usual, that place boggles and bores me, clouds me and clears me, loves me and loathes me.
I do all the same for it. So we're pretty cool.
One thing resulted from it. And, probably, a few other things, in relation to this one thing: I feel like myself again. Everything all at once has this new sparkling breath to it.
I'm more in love with life than I've been in a long time. (Which probably only means I will soon hate the shit out of it)
If it sticks, I'm in store for some major adventures. And probably some major hell.
If it does not stick, I'm in store for about the same, minus the adventures.