Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I don’t remember dreams, only nightmares. I don’t remember the nightmares that are invented by my mind, only the ones that are real.
In the morning, I can talk about my dreams. But then the coffee flushes the night away from my mind, and all I know is that my dream was confusing. A couple of years ago I dreamed that the Pope turned into a teddy bear. I forgot to have coffee that day, and I wrote the dream down.

It’s a shame that my coffee replaces my dreams.

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