My dreams were anxious last night. Probably due largely to Les Stroud, the Canadian wilderness survivor, his struggles with the Norwegian winter and his bitter envy of the urine guzzling Bear Grylls. The temperatures here were only cool though, and sleep was a fine place to be. I'm thinking that it might seem pathetic to an outsider that sleep is the best place I know these days. Not love. Not adventure. Not engagement in the good fight. Just to lay down, switch it off, and let it slip.
No comments:
Post a Comment