I’ve been dreaming again. I hadn’t for a long time, which was making me a bit sad, but lately, it’s been happening again. (Yeah, I know, we dream even when we don’t remember it, but isn’t that pretty much the same result as “I haven’t.”?)
Anyway, to get to the point, the dreams last night were about a superhero who got his powers by huffing ballpoint pens. I never exactly said my brain was sane, y’know. It was a pretty good story going, though, as he’d stopped sometime in the past because it was doing bad things to his health, but he stumbled across some of the artifacts from those days and said, “Screw this, I’m going back to heroics, no matter what it does to me.”
Which led to the funniest bit, in which he’s snorting these ink pens while trying to convince a friend on the other end of the telephone that, no, he hasn’t fallen back into that filthy habit.
(And yeah, I dream in plot. The dreams may get pretty odd, but the story seems to consistently hang together despite the oddities.)
So does he look like Hitler because there’s always an ink smudge below his nose?