(in dreams, a girl is often a girl)
Mainly in dreams do I lately find new material about which to write. Others' dreams are boring, so I'll desist. I've been writing about mine too much here recently. The meaning of dreams as the succession of emotional ideas and fantastical sensation has always seemed clear enough to me; unadorned by, and not in need of, ancillary enigma. Only the mystically disabled care about the dreams of others, seeing significance and usefulness among the figments and phantasms, finding signs in the signs, riding the liquid language of the sleeping mind in search of heretofore hidden meaning.... I can still hear the distant chatter, the oohs and ahhhs of supposed otherworldly comprehension, as if everyone is somehow more self-psychic in their dreams, tapped into the paranormalcy of their own boredom. Or, should it only be said that they are magically less charlatan in dreams than elsewhere? Or, should that not be said....
Either way, for some the darkness of the mind must be pleasured and then preserved.
... speaking of darkness.
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