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He became so absorbed in his reading that he spent his nights reading from dusk to dawn, and his days from dawn to dusk; and thus, from so little sleep and from so much reading, his brain dried up, so that he came to lose all judgement.

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🦋 Dream blogging

Last night's dream was taking place on a lot of different levels of narrative resolution, and I woke up remembering several of them. Unfortunately all that melted away very quickly -- the only bit of it I remember is this, which I believe was the enclosing story:

I'm at my friend Michael's funeral. (It's just occurring to me now that maybe this was childhood friend Michael Lopes -- while the dream was happening I was only thinking of the friend as "Michael".) The proceedings were not exactly what I expect a funeral to be like; sort of a cross between reader's theater and a role-playing game. The mood was more levity than mourning. Near the end I sought out Michael's mother and asked her why they had set it up this way; her response was, "Because otherwise we would have to speak of him as if he were our son; and we can't do that." (Or possibly "and we are forbidden to do that.")

posted morning of Saturday, November 15th, 2008
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