Hkaγe akxa ąpą iiðaðe

[muckefuck]

I was so tired on Monday that I went straight home after class. The sun was just setting and I went straight to the roof to watch it. The light over the lake was indescribable; somehow, the water reflecting the clouds lit up by the dying sun managed to be brighter than the clouds themselves. I came down to find my apartment stuffy and close; as I was opening windows, I heard a surprisingly loud cawing and saw a very large crow sitting in the locust right outside my bedroom window. I watched it for a bit before it flew away, pondering the wisdom of my ancestors in viewing it as a bird of ill omen.

I survived, but I did have odd dreams. Were they just a function of how long I slept? All in all, despite the awkwardness of being caught in the wrong manor house at suppertime due to a compromising dalliance, I much preferred my stint as Lord Crawford to my time atop a pyramid as a captive Aztec figurehead the previous night (which I blame entirely on monshu's choice of t.v. programming). On the other hand, the scrap of human flesh given me to eat by the priests (not to mention the foil-wrapped meat pie) was far tastier than anything likely to come across an English board. Oh, and bunj, do you know how to wield a Schläger? Judging by my awkwardness attempting to demonstrate the use of one to a flirtatious lady during my tour as a German aristocrat in another dream, I need some serious practice before I ever take one up in a duel. Who knows? It could happen tonight--then where would I be?

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[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

We were reading the arm-length list of possible side-effects for monshu's new bp meds and one of those that caught our attention was "abnormal dreams". He chuckled and said, "Does that mean my dreams will be more like yours?"