Yes, dreams. Dreams. Every once in a while, I sit down, and I examine them, the “real” ones I’ve had, ever since my big comedown. They change, sometimes, pretty radically, too — when I graduated college, I thought that it was my destiny to become a writer; not like this here, but a novelist. I mean, I still have to write (I actually prayed for such a curse/blessing), but I could never seem to sit down for hours at a time and emote on paper (or in front of a screen, as it were). Then, in 2000, sitting while The Matrix was on HBO, it suddenly struck me that artificial intelligence was why God put me on this planet. And I have stuck with this since. And I guess it is not so radical a consideration I have these days, but what, from my current frame of reference, my path is in relation to that original inspiration. Hm. Just to write this little thing, if it comes to it, invokes in me a little sense of “keep on keeping on”. Thanks, I guess, for indulging this thinking on paper. I guess this dreaming keeps me goodly held, and things are going pretty well, all things well considered. Not too bad at all.
