I'm on my 10th day. Still sleeping 11 hours a day. I have the will to cut this down but not the desire. Everyday I say to myself -- let the party carry on a few days more. Remeron is sleepy bye bye land. The sleep theater is enticing and seductive; almost a surrogate for real life. I love my bed. I love dreaming. I've had crazy dreams before but never so intense and on a daily basis. The good thing is that they aren't scary dreams. They aren't nightmares. I'll share a few of mine. You can share yours if you feel upto it.

Our plane landed on a highway in my city because there were really tall high tension wires blocking it's path. The pilot and co pilot commenced making paper airplanes and shooting it through the transmission wires to experiment if our plane could slide between them. That the sizes of the two -- the paper model and the aircraft -- were different did not matter to them. We were issued temporary passes to roam/live in the city for a week and then return to the aircraft because we hadn't cleared immigration yet. In a week or so, we were informed, the pilot would find a way to clear the towers and we'd fly to the aerodrome where we'd clear customs and immigration. I took a taxi home but midway I realized that I hadn't been issued the temporary pass. I felt like a fugitive in my own city.

We were watching an open air play and I was back in college. The architecture around us was greco-roman. My college had been like that -- it looked familiar. A pretty girl (probably someone's girlfriend --- mine??), was resting her head on my shoulder and had placed her finger in my mouth. Her cheeks felt divine resting on my skin. I started chewing her finger. Bits of it came off in my mouth as if it had been a pencil eraser. When I thought I was done chewing her finger down to a stub, I spat the rubbery contents into my palm and handed them over -- here's your finger, take it. She raised her finger and showed me that it was intact. I was puzzled and wondered what I'd been chewing.

I'm the owner of a microlight aircraft. I race it down the highway to take off. The gears and brakes are not where you normally find them in a conventional car. I do not know how the functions work in this plane. Unable to take-off, I swerve into a dead end alley. I can't turn around or reverse. Some people have to push my craft back. I try to take off again. I have some passengers now -- my cousins. I can fly this time. We are supposed to land in Pakistan but en-route we are asked to divert to Afghanistan. We camp overnight in mountainous Afghani terrain and cook kebabs on a bonfire. Suddenly a boy comes running towards us and falls dead. We search his belongings. He is carrying opium. We are in trouble. We realize *we* could get arrested for possessing drugs. We make a run for the aircraft. At the aircraft door is the immigration officer wanting to check our papers. The officer gets a call on his phone. We know he's being instructed to stop us. I push him to the ground, snatch his gun and we enter the aircraft. We bolt the door from inside (it's not a microlight anymore -- its evolved into a small aircraft overnight ). Inside there's an Afghan in the cockpit. I shoot him down.

This post has been edited by Rahul: Jun 30 2008, 10:16 AM