"Someone with an obsession for arranging things in alphabetical order was an abcedist, whereas someone with an obsession for arranging them in reverse alphabetical order was a zyxedist."
Walter Moers (The City of Dreaming Books)


In lieu of giving up

 Insomnia is an inhumane bastard. Therefore no dreams. Tempted to throw in the towel, but don't want the sleep thief to win this game, so instead I will look at pictures of my favourite places, those wonderful spots of nature that I have no physical energy to get to in the flesh.
This is the pathway leading into the beautiful, magical Woodland Walk, at the Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens, in South Africa. It's even better when the Clivia are wide awake and have taken over the area; then it's a heavenly spectacle of orange and yellow beauties.  

And this is a gorgeous patch of Bluebells, in the stunning Kew Gardens, London, taken when I was on holiday in the UK, in May 2010


Last night I dreamed...

On account of credits earned in a lifetime many aeons ago, the extremely slim girl, often rudely referred to as Aeriform, was granted freedom from gravity by Aeolian, the handsome, exalted god of winds.
 Before this happy turn of events, she had lived as one barely visible, taunted by those less featherweight than her. She was never required to produce an aeger at school, having been automatically awarded a perpetual aegrotat by the head of state, relieving her of the tedious obligation to write examinations.
 Only a minute portion of the public; those who possessed an unusually accurate degree of ocular agility, even knew that she existed. Her very lack of physical substance served as her aegis, in time she came to appreciate her inability to gain sufficient weight to be noticed.
 After the adze had been wielded by Aeolian, releasing her from the bonds that kept others earth-bound, she was thrilled to be able to enter the adyum of those light as air, free to roam the ether at will, stopping to rest now and then in aeries high up in the tree tops, performing aerobatics in her invisible aero hydroplane, her vehicle of choice. It was green, her favourite colour. 

What's the message?
I guess it's kind of obvious; don't give a damn what others think or say about you, you are on this planet to be yourself, so do it with vigour. Very often, the very thing that we are criticized for by others, turns out to be the one thing, which, if honoured and nurtured, will allow us to soar, way beyond our wildest dreams.       


The recall of my first A -word dream

It was a light and breezy evening in Athens. Asklepios reclined in his easy chair, an unread medical journal on his lap, a glass of neat bourbon in his hand, and a tear in the corner of his eye. The affective, dark aura that enveloped him loomed like a storm cloud threatening to rupture at any moment.
Normally such an affable chap, he had noticed that his manners of late had been sadly lacking. He recalled how, just that very morning, he had openly affronted his entire male nursing staff, calling them, without reason, a bed of wilting pansies, provoking an affray the likes of which had never before been witnessed by anyone, anywhere on earth. This affrighted the entire population of the city to such an extent that by 4 o’clock in the afternoon, everyone had boarded up their homes from the inside, and were seated patiently in their lounges, waiting for Armageddon.
The aetiologist’s report on the 7 o’clock news declared that the good doctor, their god of medicine, had been the one and only cause of the entire ruckus.
 Asklepios felt no trace of sadness when, at about 8pm, the affectatious woman, who had been affianced to him, sent a message to him in a dove’s beak, informing him that their upcoming wedding was off. As he swirled his whiskey around his toothless oral cavity, all those gloomy fluids in the darkened thought bubble above his head rushed to an afflux and out flowed a crystal clear stream of realization; he was not born to be a doctor, goddammit, he was ,and always had been, an aeronaut at heart. He ceremoniously burnt his Hippocrates Oath, built a hot air balloon, and adopted his true vocation with gusto. So devoted was he to his new way of life that he had his name officially changed to Aesthete. So appreciative of the beauty of nature was he, that within a month he had afforested the entire inside of his home, and went on to become the greatest balloonist of all time.    

Oh, what can it mean
My interpretation of this dream is, follow your fascination, and everything will work out beautifully. Sure hope it turns out to be the truth, I quit my deathly dull job, am following my fascination, and although it's not yet worked out beautifully, I fully expect it to!