We Are

We Never Eat
We Don't have pimples
We're Never Sick
We don't go to the bathroom
We never cry
There is never mucus in our noses
We have no desires
No urges
We are always clean
We always behave
We're always legal
We're always nice
We're always active
We're always hard working
We're modest
We're unselfish
We.
Are.
Perfection.

History is stranger than Fiction... or just, the same.

Okay, it's late... but I've been working and now I need to write a bit
to unwind, as opposed to writing so that I can kill myself - death by
History essay.. you know what I'm saying.

I was browsing through my history books, looking at all the pretty
sources... and I realized how important it is to have photos in these
books. I don't mean for all the logical normal reasons we use
sources... the sudden realization I had was deeper.
I took one of the GCSE books by Traynor... "Europe 1890-1990" and I
flicked through that. I'd not looked at this particular book before,
and doing so was like flashing back in time. All these months I'd
heard of Kaminev, Zanoviev, Karinsky, Kornilov, Witte, Stoylpin....
but they weren't *people*... they were stories. They could have easily
be fiction and instead of History, been part of a long story. But to
flick through this particular textbook allowed me to see each of their
faces - none how I'd imagined, of course. But each insanely
interesting.

The rest of this ramble will go on in my head. I'm off for the night
before guilt plagues me sleep.

Dreaming someone else's dream.

Hm... I dreamt of Dogs last night. Two small dogs, like bulldogs but
about the size of my hand. They were in my living room and just about
to pee against my couch. Thankfully there were two plastic bags in
arm's reach and... well... I'm not sure. It was a dream. I think I
stopped them.
I dreamt of a house. A damn fine house. Something was wrong with it
though... it was a beach house and there was a boat pulling up. There
were people around it who were drowning. I jump in! I'm drowning too..
I ask for the vicadin lifebuoy. Vicadin? No matter... It's round my
neck and I'm holding on. Then I get these instructions - almost like
from memory. That if my name was something or another, I'd drown if I
didn't do X. However, if my name was something else or another, I
would drown if i did do X.
I dreamt of lithographs and how to make them...

I don't know where th dream of the dogs came from... I think the
drowning came from hearing of the Saint Maries La Mer tradition, and
the thing about the names... was because of St. Germain.
It's the second night running I have the lithographs dream... and I
wake up just before the climax of the "story".