7th March 2022

I am so thankful for the dreams my subconscious is upon occasion inclined to create for me. Illusions most certainly, definitely not straightforward memories, for the facts are vague and have the distinctive taste of marzipan, are wholly reminiscent of that cunningly hid but ever-present flavor of the very best celebratory cakes. Awaking envigored, and pleasingly exorcised from all manner of past happenstances that singularly make no particular sense whatsoever but combined into a new magical narrative elucidate all manner of events and feelings otherwise mislaid or sadly unresolved.

Time and location has no reality in somnambulist musings, rather they merge into a perfectly manufactured sauce, smooth of texture, without either lump or granule to distract the gastronome from the appreciation of the nuance in every singular ingredient so cunningly combined.

To have shared my schooling with a now famed country and western singer, standing side by side to take on evil adversaries, righting wrongs, upholding chivalry, without the slightest knowledge of how disparate the paths to our futures would be.  Such meanderings are of course poppycock, without any more than the slightest grain of truth and only that by broad coincidence. Thankfully illusory compotes don’t follow rules necessitating any logic or hint of probability, just possibility is enough to set the wheels of fancifulness in motion, without brake or rein to control the boisterous beast eagerly pawing the ground between the shafts.

One of my deepest regrets is that I find myself unable to share with you the wonders of these journeys I am graciously blessed to partake, into realms of unaccountable magic, brilliant sunrises, dastardly sunsets. All manner of experiences I could then most vividly present, from glorious majesty to horrendous evil, unexpurgated except for the most daunting of scenes, for purposefully in real time our eyes are safely closed tight against the dread persona of awakedness. That state that will but in the twinkling of an eye brushes all manner of bejeweled wonders clean away with the acidic touch of reality.

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