Once there was a man who believed every thought he had was
not only new and exciting...
But that each one was far too exciting to be wasted
Spending his days desperately trying to keep up with his own mind
Drawing and writing each new born idea before it escaped
Books and pages covered in foetal theories
Seeds of philosophies and animation, fresh as the newly woken
morning...

Not a single breath allowed between conception, execution, completion
Any space, any delay, would allow the precious juices of his brain to
leak, and be wasted

And now you sit smugly and snug in time
Every day free to fill with the brilliance that threatens to spew from
your overactive and torturing internal thought
Every day of every week
Nothing missing, but everything to wait for
Nothing present but constant fantasies block out the light, and time
is wasted...
Trickles away to what is sure to come too soon
We wait
And silence becomes more acceptable

Moreover, it´s 2:50am and I´m about to go to bed. This night will
be something of an experiment.
Concerning dreams.
Well, yeah...I suppose that when it comes to dreaming,
most of your memories are like mine - few and far between.
Of course, it´s always appealing to think that the dreams will remain
within my mind when they are of great importance,
when they are carrying truth...
But that never seem to happen...so this time, I´ll put John Lennon
aside and try the scientific point of view...which when transferred
to reality means that I´ll spend this night with pad and pencil next to
my bed, and every time I wake, I will, hopefully, write down what´s
in my head at the time.
At least that´s the theory.

"Only in dreams
We see what it means
Reach out our hands
Hold on to hers
But when we wake
It´s all been erased
And so it seems
Only in dreams"

- Weezer, "Only in Dreams"



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