-Have you ever taken notice of the last thing each night that you think about?

-Not really.

-Think about: each night you fall asleep thinking about something, and then you start dreaming. It’s very likely that the last thing you think about each night is what your mind ends up focusing on in your dreams. Take it a step forward, what if you concentrate on picking out the thing you want to think about before falling asleep. I mean, how many people have probably unwittingly dreamed of sheep just because that was what they were taught to think of when they couldn’t sleep. Sheep is probably one of the most popular dream subjects because of it. I wonder how psychologists translate sheep in dreams. It’s probably a wool fetish or something. It’s mind boggling how people don’t consider the little things when deciding what to dream.

-Are you talking about blogging again?

-What? No, I’m talking about important, interesting things. Why would I talk about blogging again?

-I don’t know. You do spend too much of your time pounding out words that nobody reads. It’s only natural that if you spend that much time doing something you’re bound to talk about it continuously until everyone around you—that is, everyone who is not blogging, which is all of your normal friends and family, just for the record—gets very sick of it and begins tuning you out when you begin to broach the subject. Even if you were just talking about whatever crazy thoughts popped into your mind, how do I know you’re not just looking for fodder for tonight’s entry? Do I want to be an unwitting participant in your quest to entertain the world? A world, I should remind you, which does not want to be entertained by the likes of you. Let me clarify, an insular world that only finds you entertaining when it itself is involved in the medium. It’s like the high school trumpet player who grows up and loves trumpet music. It’s not that he loves the sound of the trumpet, it’s that he can imagine himself playing the song—however poorly. Just the knowledge that he’s related to the real trumpet player makes him love the sound and the players of that instrument more than anyone else. It’s the same thing with blogging. Those who blog love to read blog. Those who don’t get bored out of our egg-thin skulls listening to you blab on about it endlessly.

-I was talking about dreams and where they take you. What’s with your hostility toward my blog? I don’t even go there with you. I know you’re not interested. I was in the moment. Look how hazy it is in here. You’re not supposed to be like this now. I’m thinking deep thoughts. I thought we were thinking deep thoughts.

-I thought we were in free association mode here. I wasn’t exactly attacking you. I was freely associating.

-We were, but it was my free association we were talking about. Pass it over here. You’re boggarting it.

-I ain’t boggarting, I’m taking my turn. It’s just my turn lasts a while, especially when you start philosophizing on the meaning of dreams or going on about your blogging.

-I wasn’t—thanks. I wasn’t talking about dreams. I was talking about controlling your dreams.

-Same difference over here.