The Nomad Chronicles

I see myself on a beautiful bright green hill near a rocky mountain. I am sitting at a desk, writing with a quill.

I fly into my body. I am now using a touch pad and a stylus.

I write thusly:

Dream Dreamviews,
If I should die before I wake, whatever. I have thee soul, my own soul to take. I would now like to eat some cake.
Love,
Nomad

I throw it in the air, and blast it with a rifle.

I fall asleep in the chair for a second, and it breaks. Raven appears.

Nomad? What are you doing?

I was trying to be immortal, but apparently, I already am.