In the night there seems to be too much in words for me to control or use them beyond what they will for themselves. In the morning after I dream, words hardly seem to be enough and they are stingy bar holding back my thoughts. "Survival was simple: enter the dungeon or the word, accept tis restraints, and fly like a bird through it's bars. Ascending to the high branches of the imagination was the only was to escape." -James Cowan