Because I had nothing better to Blog about.

She said "Is this the return to Oz?"
The grass is dead, the gold is brown, the sky has claws.
There's a wined up man walking round and round,
what once was Emerald City's now a crystal town.

-Scissor Sisters, "Return to Oz"

Dreamt that I astrally projected myself out of myself and trotted into Dan's room only to find that he had astrally projected himself too. Or so I thought. Knowing that Dan would obviously not remember what happened during his little astral trip after his awakening - while I would, (oh there is tonnes of logic right there) - I decided to ask him the question that's been wrestling with my mind for the past month or so.

"Why are you leaving?"

Astral Dan shrugged. "Dunno. I'm not Astral Dan, I'm just a ghost, studying Dan and trying to get into character. For a play, you know. Just because we're dead we can't put on plays...?" (gigantic boulders of logic, even)

Another dead end. But I did get to hang out with the ghost aspiring to be the perfect Dan for the rest of the dream. And even if he was not a very good actor, it was a bit nice, in the warm and fuzzy koala-bear way, to be talking to someone resembling Dan again.

Because it's been so long. Because some days, it feels as if every thought has its own sword of Damocles swinging over it, and that opening one's mouth would send it straight down, cleaving some speaker, some speaker's dream. I suppose that's why we mostly mumble through our teeth nowadays words forced and masked as heavy breathing - Every word infected and bringing with it the risk that some minute world will come to a screeching halt.