Kinda like leaves. Only straighter. And longer. So not.

So it's like, wow. I'm actually delivering on my announcement from last weeks e-mail. It's that damn puppet. He's making me do this. Threatening to hug me if I don't. Go figure.

So what is it?

Night Thinking is the thinking that one does... at night! It's that time just before you fall asleep and you go through what you've done that day (assuming you're not too knackered and fall asleep straight away). Things appear clearer than they usually do. Decisions which, in daylight hours, seem silly, dangerous, scary, now appear much more feasible. You can do anything you put your mind to. Ain't nothing gonna stand in your way.

Then you fall asleep. And you dream. And maybe you do what you said you would. And maybe you don't. And either way people get shot and killed and everything gets fucked up. But that's kewl, 'cos at least it's in nice dolby-surround sound and glorious techni-color and you can fly...

And then you wake up and you're mortal once more. All the familiar doubts, concerns, worries return. And all those things you said you were going to do today; do your homework, ask her out, get your life sorted. All these things are just as impossible as before.

So what's the point of Night Thinking? The Holy Grail is the point. The day when you're too tired to realise you're awake and you do the things you want. That day would rock. 'Course, you wouldn't remember what the smeg had happened. But at least you'd get confuzed as hell. You'd wake up in the dreaming and think you were awake. And then you're family would get killed and you'd become a pilot and kiss your sister and defeat an evil empire... wait a minute. That's not my dream. Get out, old man!
Hey, don't get angry, dude!
What?! You were in my head trying to subvert me to the ways of the Starre Whorres! That's sick!
No, no, it's just I was bored is all.
Who in Fred's name are you anyway?
Obi-wan's my name, fucking pigeons is my game.
Kewl. Duct-tape?
Rolls and rolls.
Natch.
And so it would continue. You'd live your life in the dreaming and sleep your sleep in the real world and you wouldn't be able to fly in your dreams but in the day you could reach the sky. And nothing would be beyond possibility. And you'd meet Murphy. Which would rock.

So anyway, I'm straying from the point. Help me back. Cheers. Why doesn't night thinking ever become day living? 'Cos then everything would be rosy and happy. No it wouldn't. That's bollocks. Everything would be real is why. No fantasy. No dreams.

The other day I'm laying in bad reading The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag (Robert Rankin if you know what I mean. And I'm sure that you do.) and I have this vision. Vision? Not vision... image? Photograph? An image in my mind anyway, clear as life, like it's happening then or has just happened or is about to happen. And it's so real I cry when I realise it's not. A glimmer of a might have been. A glimpse of something I could have had. And then I realise I still can. And even though I know, deep down, that I'm not going to do anything about it, I let myself be happy for those few moments whilst the image is fresh in my mind and I believe I'll do what I dream when I wake up.

The point. Dreams. I need them. I refuse to live my life so I dream it instead. Dreams are safer. People die and then they're back a few nights later. You can jump off bridges and not go splat. You fly to freedom in dreams, away from your meat shell.

Later,
Caleb

PS - Pretentious? Me? Hella no! Well... okay. But it ain't my fault! 'Tis the puppet. As I said earlier.