"Darkness at the Break of Noon" - B. Dylan

It's not officially winter yet, but the cold freeze has set in. Daylight is brief. Cold dominates. I had another long sleep. Many strange and garbled dreams, no good narrative line, but my dream state seems more real than my waking state. How strange. The pictures in my head, seem sharper, more tangible, than the cold reality around me. Maybe we evolved a consciousness to kill the boredom of a mundane world? I examine the afterglow of the dreams, looking for a clue, some kind of sign, some insight... nothing to grab onto, a feeling of something lost...looking to be found...