this dream

ended with a gathering of friends i've not seen in a very long time or that i've yet to meet in the flesh. it was about writing, we all were writing and discussing writing, and we did not question why we do it for why question what you do for love. you just do. and in that act you become the act of doing. there is thinking done in this doing but you also, to bastardize a famous poet, you also go on your nerve. i was in this dream and when i awoke there was no longer a separation of this life.