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  • When a Cigar Stops Being a Cigar...
    Rosencrantz
    22 Dec 2002

    Dream? I wish I didn't. Dreams......Dream are not made of that stuff....whether it be the maltese falcon or whatever the bard intended it to be....Dreams are us....And we be the dreams and you be the dreamer. In your mind's eye do I exist in the dream that I carry within in mine. Furthering the incoherence....

    I dream when I wake and do not dream when I sleep.

    For when woke, the dreams begin. And I meant not the difference between the bad dreams and the good dreams, for this is only dream with many parts....

    Every third period is the best of the dreams....I see the girl I'd like for mine, but know and feel that she is not mine to have, or ask for, unless she deem it so. I am free in that room unlike in any other...and the dream flourishes

    And then a bell rings and it goes onto something resembling act 4, scene 3 of Macbeth...

    An instant death in pacing and excitiment, and even the scene itself seems slow and dream-like...I dream within the dream, waiting for what dreams may come...

    And when I sleep...The sleep is that of reason and unruly thoughts and desires....For things do not make sense, and as such, make sense.

    People from the waking dream star in my dozing dreams and people and sights and situations I know not star as well...

    Deja vu.

    It is no glitch in the Matrix, as the Matrix is simply part of a larger, more sleepy dream.

    I know not the lines of this dream, the producers sent me no script and plunge me into the act without the slightest hint of what to do...Only my name is confused with someone else's...

    I know not even it.

    Be mine, my dear. Do you fear me? I wish you not...For I fear you as much as you fear me, if you fear me at all.

    ooo...aaa....pass another joint...