I took two short naps today. In each one, I was witnessing and living my own life, and I had absolute power over what happens in the dream.

This is not uncommon to me, and not uncommon in general. Lucid dreams have been around for as long as we have a neocortex…

What’s special about those repeated dreams of mine, is that it seems to be that two forces are fighting against each other until Death.

Today, it was the daily grind and the mighty boredom who were on the checkered board. In fact, it was me.

Yet I was also sitting at the table, behind the board, and I grabbed two handfuls of events, clenched my fists until blood poured from my hands.

Then I woke up…

Nothing had changed.
Nothing but… what is about to change.

In my previous post, I ranted about talkers. I told we don’t need them.

We need things to be done. We need doers.

So, why am I still typing?

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