Saturday, September 6, 2014

I get drunk...

...and dream that I see little men with sticks. It is the strangest dream. It is like being in a dark foreboding version of the Willy Wonka factory. But I am not Willy Wonka. But in this dream the little men are still there. They do not sing. They do not dance. Yet they are earnest and involved in their activities. In this dream other people make me want to do things and say things I do not understand.

Maybe I should stay away from strong drink. That should stop the dreams. But if I do that I'll never get to finish that report.

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