Merrily merrily merrily merrily / Life is like my dreams

Of course people my age dream about toilets as a subconscious nudge to wake up already, but I wonder why my subconscious tends to make them padded Louis XV jobbies, nice enough as chairs but useless for elimination purposes. Maybe it's the 'frustration' aspect that almost automatically goes with the 'toilet' part. Last night's dream, though, lacked the usual trope of 'looking for a toilet in Japan that isn't occupied and is usable.' I was in a Canadian and very probably Torontonian (going by its international denizens) mall or large restaurant. The Louis XV toilets were all lined up against the far wall, cheek by jowl and in full view of everyone: mostly occupied by people chatting with the stranger beside them while they relieved themselves. 'Oh yes,' I thought as I took my seat beside a 30-ish Italian guy, 'they have to be like this because of the unisex bathroom law.'

There were dragon kings involved earlier on, or in a separate dream, forgotten except for a vague fancy that it was about Gouen and sex.

Found around

Onto a Vast Plain

Rainer Maria Rilke
translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

You are not surprised at the force of the storm—
you have seen it growing.
The trees flee. Their flight
sets the boulevards streaming. And you know:
he whom they flee is the one
you move toward. All your senses
sing him, as you stand at the window.

The weeks stood still in summer.
The trees’ blood rose. Now you feel
it wants to sink back
into the source of everything. You thought
you could trust that power
when you plucked the fruit:
now it becomes a riddle again
and you again a stranger.

Summer was like your house: you know
where each thing stood.
Now you must go out into your heart
as onto a vast plain. Now
the immense loneliness begins.

The days go numb, the wind
sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves.

Through the empty branches the sky remains.
It is what you have.
Be earth now, and evensong.
Be the ground lying under that sky.
Be modest now, like a thing
ripened until it is real,
so that he who began it all
can feel you when he reaches for you.

Book of Hours, II 1
( Cut for German )