Conversation:

Sometime a few years ago I got to experimenting with mycalogical (sp?) substances for the first time, and I wound up having a rather interesting and vivid eight hours of intense dreaming from the experience, full of very Milton-esque images of angels warring in heaven and all the rest of it. I woke up from this sleep with a fully-formed epic poem in my head, and I staggered over to my computer to lay the thing out. I got about three quarters of the way into it when my downstairs neighbour (purveyor of mycalogical goodies from the previous night) started banging on my front door asking for a cigarette.

By the time I had given him one and shooed him off, the remaining part of the poem, and the dream, was gone from my head. I no longer have a copy of it, unfortunately, because I happened to come across some sumerian mythology that described my dream rather precisely; it seems someone had beaten me to writing that particular poem about six thousand years ago. Still, it's given me food for though with regards to Jung's idea of a collective unconscious of primordial symbols.

Funny. I had that same experience. Litterally, except that in my vision the angels were having sex...and noone interrupted me!
Im writing a book...

Your dream sounds like a lot more fun than mine; in mine they were all killing each other and shedding blood and such. I suppose there's room to interpret that several ways, mind you.

You should let me know when your book is written; if it doesn't suck i'd be interested in having a look.

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