11:35 p.m.
March 08, 2006
You know, often enough, I don't remember my dreams. Sure, I remember remembering them, but I don't remember them. I'll be left with a feeling, a gist, but no more. Other times, I'll remember vague parts of them, or I'll remember them but there's no rhyme or reason to them.

You have the occasional vivid dream that you just don't get. You think about it, and you couldn't put it together. It leaves you feeling as if you have to consciously separate it from your own life.

Then there are those dreams. The ones that are vivid, yes. The ones that make perfect sense, they don't break into dream logic that makes sense. You could retell it, you can picture each part of it in your head. It's as if you've just watched a movie and you can't get it out of your head.

It keeps replaying, over and over. You wish it were as it was, not as it is. Maybe it's sort of sexy. But it keeps going, over and over.

I had one of those, and it keeps on coming. It's hard to fathom, yet so indelibly sexy.
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