Dreams are like the seaweed around your ankles when you wade ashore after swimming out beyond the second wave.
I wake in the night. The premise I am working under is, there are too many categories. To begin, you only need two. I am told this and I say, oh, sure, here goes another newage nostrum.
But then I find, it actually works. It seems so very general, but when I break it down, it isn't, really it isn't.
Everything you do is either to enhance your own pride, or that of someone else. Sometimes you inadvertently do both, as, you write something, perhaps a dopey dream, and it pleases you there on the screen, and someone reads it and thinks, what a dopey dream; I could do better than that. So in this case, everyone is satisfied.
I try and dismiss the notion of separating into two parts, but I cannot. After all, that's how computers work, and also Socrates...when he does.
I went back to sleep.
Wakeful reflection: seconds.
Other dreams: lost at sea