Q.E.D.
To me at least the discussion is quenched, but perhaps I could bear to elaborate--for the good of all three of you out there reading this (if there still even are three).
When I was younger, I had a recurring nightmare of being lost in a funhouse version of my Pennsylvania home--and always finding my way to the basement just in time for the octopus monster with the sharp teeth to wake up and capture me. So often did I have this dream that when I would become very sick and start having minor hallucinations (which is not, contrary to popular opinion--linked to psychosis, mind you--and completely natural), I would be scared that the octopus would come back. Eventually, this problem sorted itself out--DreamBen promised the nefarious cephalopod the ghostbusters in return for his amnesty and I never had the nightmare again.
Last night I woke up quite surprised that I WASN'T at that same bus terminal I always visualize when I try to visualize Paris. Now, I have never been to Paris--I don't even know if there are bus stations the way I visualize them in France at all. I read a short story a million years ago where I managed to visualize an odd bus station with the Eiffel Tower in the background and an amber-striped, deep violet sky where the sun has recently set. I'm not quite certain why I was in Paris--nor why Mara, Farah and Marc were there (although the later two of these seem to make more sense than the former), but there we were and I was being criticized for being late to the terminal because, "the lions can't wait forever, you know!" and suddenly I was overcome with vertigo and I had to wake up--quite disoriented, and quite confused. Sometimes, despite the fact that a dream is ridiculous, you wake up and are not sure whether the dream was that crazy situation you just escaped from--or that warm, wonderful circumstance you have just entered. Feeling me?
Below is my favorite of the 4th of July in DC pics from this year--maybe someday I will treat this thing as a normal person's blog! :P
-B
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