I dreamed I was the DJ at my own funeral

I was in a church that smelled like old vinyl and damp wool, playing a mix of songs from weddings I’d done—some still fresh, some from ten years ago. The crowd was mostly strangers, but one woman kept turning around, nodding like she knew me. I played 'The Way You Look Tonight' on loop, not because it was right, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about how awkward it felt to be heard by people who never really listened. When the last note faded, no one clapped. Just silence. Then someone whispered, 'You should’ve played something faster.' I woke up with my hand still on an imaginary fader.