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There really is nothing quite like a sleep-deprived, anemic, slightly crazed person who's been reading lots of fairy legends and random internet posts while consuming entirely too much tea and chocolate. Strange connections forming in this addled brain. Talk about altered states of consciousness.

My subconscious hates me

Just remembered: Last night I had a dream involving every regular character on the TV show Roswell--except Max.

What good is Roswell without shirtless Max?

Memories of a waking dream

I have in my possession a coin made for me some years ago at the local Renaissance festival. On one side is the Raven, described in the mint's catalogue as "Magical Trickster Spirit Being; embodiment of the Creator and emissary for the Great Spirit." On the other side is the Unicorn, "Symbol of innocence; the horn representing Reason of Intellect that can be used for defending the innocent or punishing the guilty." When I first held my coin, my friend who was with me--someone who has known me too well for too long--said, "Innocent Trickster? Yeah, that's you." And so it seems.

Once in a waking dream I walked into a shop, one filled with books and musical instruments and all manner of good and beautiful things. The old shopkeeper asked me how I would pay, and so I handed her my coin.

"Are you here as the Messenger or as the other?" she asked. One or the other of us flipped the coin, which landed Raven-side up.

"You are the Messenger. What is the Message?"

"I don't know."

"Come back when you find it."

Some while later, I saw someone who had been a friend but who would no longer speak to me. She had once called me to tell me she would kill herself. I had called the police, and she never forgave me for the betrayal.

I went back to the shopkeeper and pointed to the woman who had been my friend. "The Message is: She must live."

"Are you certain? That is the Message?"

"Yes, I am certain."

"You know she will hate you?"

"Yes."

I wonder where she is now. I wonder if she can forgive me yet.