Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I dream a poem or short story or movie. I laugh uproariously and think I must wake up and write this down. My lazy self tries to convince my industrious self that I won't forget. My industrious self chides my lazy self, of course you will never remember. Many times, my lazy self wins, and I do not get up and write down the idea, and I fall back into the marvelous dream that in the morning I never remember even dreaming. But sometimes, my industrious self manages to kick my lazy self awake enough to grab a pen and paper, and scribble down the superb idea, which in the light of morning is a jumble of nonsense that was only brilliant and funny within the context of a nonsensical dream.
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