Oh dear, what a nasty dream

So it's 3 am and I am racking my brains to try and remember which two corpses I was involved in hiding and which of the two I had participated in murdering.

Yes - a bad dream. Essentially the police had found two bodies - one in a submerged car somewhere - and I knew it would not be long before they followed the trail and came knocking at my door, so I was desperately trying to work out how to cover my tracks in such a way as to remain unsuspected. When I woke the dream was so vivid that I was unsure that it was not real, and even now I need every now and again to replay the big events of my life to ensure that murder and concealment of murder does not figure therein.

Then I started to wonder if the loss of ones marbles is like that - that fantasy, imagination, dream and nightmare become confused with reality such that you are no longer sure who you are, where you have been or what you have done.

At 8 am in the subdued light of the kitchen this is not terribly troubling, but at 3 am it sure put the willies up me, I can tell you.

Anyway I distracted myself by reading Liu Cixin's Three Body Problem until I fell asleep again at about 6 am!

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