On the predatorial nature of the Sun

Apparently only bores tell people their dreams. Jean-Dominique Bauby said that. I agree with him. Though I thought the film " The Divingbell and the Butterfly" which tells his story based on his book, (dictated by blinking the letters!!) was vaguely lacking. I would like to have been more touched by it. Still worth watching.

Yesternight was particularly nightmareventful, so I awoke feeling dazed and like I had not slept at all. I dreamt of people burning, and underground crypts where a witch was trying to throw every evil up her cloak sleeve at me. Smiling serpents, and dying loves.

Anyway, finally awake at 2 in the afternoon, there was sunshine everywhere! Baldyknees had cleaned up the kitchen and his room so all was pretty light on the journey from his bed and I made myself some Coco Pops and enjoyed them in our back yard. He put the music on really loud, with songs that I was most interested in hearing. But the crunch of the cereal in my ears kind of made it hard to do so from where I was standing outside and away from the speakers; but I refused to give any of the two activities up. Either the eating or the listening. So both of them were considerably less enjoyable. There's a moral in that I'd wager.

I danced a lot in the back yard with my pyjamas on. All the neighbours could probably see me out from their window, but it made sense. The sun is like snow, it changes everything. They are oppositely the same. I can't think of many things that I would rather do than frolic in either.

I have been snuffeling this new google streets map thing for London. I found my very own window, and I could even see into it a little! Now I know where I can find me.

But where to find anything else? I looked it up, see:

LOVE: yes this is apparently where love is in london
HAPPINESS: and this what happiness looks like
TEARS: and where the tears live.