I had this great idea for a Bear post. Then I fell asleep.
Lying in bed last night I had this great idea for a post.
I had it all figured out, paragraphs, layouts, a nice wee graphic to go with it, a pure belter of a post so it was. Insightful, funny, poignant, the sort of thing that makes you stop in aisle six at Tesco and reconsider the point of not only your own existence, but also the whole concept of God, of karma, the Universe and our place within it, and the purpose and fate of humanity. I figure I'll write it down in the morning, but then I fell asleep and had this amazing dream about being able to fly. They're always the best ones. In this dream, I would run, like really fast, like Superman, and the faster I want the more forward I'd lean and then eventually I'd fall forward, up, up into the air. Above the clouds the sun shone with an intensity of white light that hurt the eyes but warmed the soul. The clouds, fluffy and white like the ones my kids used to draw, and the endless skies above and beyond that the stars and the universe and the infinity of space stretching out beyond sight filled my heart with joy, and hope.
When I woke up I forgot what I was going to write about. The idea I had for this amazing post was gone forever. No amount of word association, no amount of thinking, no amount of reaching into the depths of my 55 year-old mind through all the jetsam and flotsam, the driftwood of my memories, my soul, my being could recall what it was going to be about.
So it's 09:49 on the 27th April, King's Day in The Netherlands, and I have the day off and I'm sitting at the kitchen table, typing this, throwing words on a page hoping that something from my idea from last night might get caught on the hook, but no.
You'll have to make do with this.