Up again at just past four in the morning, awakened from (or by) a dream in which I was on the verge of making love to a woman for whom I have absolutely no affection or desire. This has happened previously, most notably one in which Hillary Clinton was involved. Go figure! I've read everything I can get my hands on concerning dreams - not the 'dream interpretation' manuals that purport to give you some message based on the content of dreams. Such manuals have about as much validity as fortune cookies. All the articles I've read were the result of information gathered from scientific studies by sleep centers, or general research into the topic of dreams, usually performed at some university or other nameless agency interested in the nature of dreams. They all share one thing in common: no substantive answers. Their conclusions end up being nothing more than speculation. For the time being, I'm going to accept my own conclusion that I'm having someone else's dreams. That's the only reasonable explanation that makes sense, based on my experiences in dreamland. If my dreams were books, they would be written by Kafka or William Burroughs. If they were paintings, they would be produced by Dali. On occasion, I can relate to the dream's contents, but, likely as not, the contents are alien to me. They have no bearing on my personal experiences, my life, or my personality. If the supposition that my dreams actually belong to someone else has any validity - the jury is still out on that matter - then there is one truly bizarre and weird sonofabitch running around out there somewhere. I wish I could tape what goes on in my head while I'm asleep, and forward it to some authority for evaluation. Or maybe I don't!