While I agree with Henry James in "tell a dream, lose a reader" I thought I’d share a rather scary development. For the past two nights I have dreamt in twitter mode. I haven’t dreamt of Twitter, I’ve dreamt in Twitter, that is my dream has constituted lots of short update messages from various people (some dead, some alive, some imaginary). I’m sure there’s a piece of modernistic fiction ‘The twitters of the dead’ to be written by someone, but not me. I’m just concerned that I’m now having dreams 2.0.
Psychotherapists need not comment.