"To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub." I listened to someone yesterday speculate that we exist (her word) only as a construct in someone else's dream. In other words, if they wake up, we're toast but don't be sad, she said, because we were never really here. Sounds a little bit like people I used to listen to a LONG time ago back when I was a wee slip of a lad and had a different relationship with pharmaceuticals and herbs.
It is comforting, perhaps, to assume that an especially bad time you are having is actually somebody's nightmare-you're just a walk-on in that movie (no lines to learn, no early calls for make-up but also no commissary privileges. Ultimately, a wash).
It would explain why sometimes I can see issues and situations very clearly, in black and white and at others, the focus is softer with more nuance (perhaps The Dreamer has taken a sleeping pill?). Did you ever awaken from a dream so vivid you could swear it was real (it was, of course, to you, but I meant in a larger context). We've all heard the expression 'the stuff dreams are made of'--but where do you get that stuff, at Linens and Things? And when you wake up, the world you had made ends, but if matter can neither be created nor destroyed, where did it go? And shouldn't we lower our voices just in case this I am just a dreamer and you are a just a dream stuff is true? No need to wake anybody up, right? Be very, very quiet, we're hunting wabbits. And all Lenny, no, NOT that Lenny (the secular saint) the other one, wants to know about are the rabbits.
Lennon's Sexy Sadie gave up the ghost in, of all places, The Netherlands. Suspect Mike Love will attend the funeral/memorial service. I wouldn't expect to see either Mia Farrow or her sister in attendance, but day after day, things can change and we keep running up that hill, whether there's anyone there or not.
Speaking of 14 weight line, Yossarian, I think you can put that fish down now. It's the First Friday in Lent, after all, and we have need of it.