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In these cold April mornings of 'bed is so warm let's just stay here' sleep-ins, I have very vivid, very detailed dreams that never carry over into full wakefulness no matter how much I rehash them when I believe- erroneously-- that I'm fully awake. But I do know that I'm almost always Japanese or in Japan. (Oh, right: today's was about the extreme national mourning for the Meiji emperor which somehow involved cutting long, shiny, bright red tickets out of magazines. And another, with no details or visuals remaining, was about the frustrations of navigating the Tokyo subway.)
It feels like I've been reading something Japanese that slops over into my dreaming, like previewing something in Libby, but Libby is stubbornly insistent that I haven't previewed anything since Rex Stout even though I know I have: something unheimlich that my mind refuses to remember. So maybe the fons et origo really is Black Water Sister and its spirits. (I didn't need google for that one, unlike Spirits Abroad, but I'd have liked a character list because I can't keep the various gods and shamans straight.)
It feels like I've been reading something Japanese that slops over into my dreaming, like previewing something in Libby, but Libby is stubbornly insistent that I haven't previewed anything since Rex Stout even though I know I have: something unheimlich that my mind refuses to remember. So maybe the fons et origo really is Black Water Sister and its spirits. (I didn't need google for that one, unlike Spirits Abroad, but I'd have liked a character list because I can't keep the various gods and shamans straight.)