Labels: dream a little dream, gaiman is god (or at least patron saint of superlative writing), why i don't read nursery rhyme detective novels by jasper fforde although i loved his thursday next series
i haven't read jasper fforde's new series, and i have no desire to. well, that's a half lie. i tried to read the first book, but failed. in my opinion, neil gaiman did it first, he did it better, and he did it in the format of a short story, instead of trying to stretch it out over 3 or 4 books.
but i may be biased, since neil gaiman is my favorite author, and i would choose his work over anyone else's.
i'm always envious of people who remember their dreams. the only ones i can remember are the ones i have when i'm half-awake, half-asleep, just drifting. when i wake up, i can feel them, and i try to hold on and remember, but then they're gone.
later during the day, they come back to me in flashes. it always annoys me, because whatever you see in your dreams you just know is true, when it isn't. but in dreams you know things.
when it comes back to me later the same day, i'm always surprised to realize that it was a dream, because i had been going around feeling like it was true, although of course i knew that logically it wasn't. it always annoys me when i realize that it was only a dream, because no matter what had happened, i still wanted it to be true.
i know that if i wrote my dreams down, they would be the best stories that anyone had ever read. they would be wonderful, and full of color and detail and life. and people would read them and feel.
but i never have time to stop and write them down, when i remember. and when i try to grasp one, it's gone. the ones i can vaguely remember now are flat and colorless, just ideas with no feeling.
just once i'd like to be able to remember a dream.
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