2003-04-21 - 11:07 a.m.

Not long ago, I had a dream that I was a little black one-celled organism evolving into a weird black prehistoric frog. I was floating through an ocean that was really oblivion, trying to learn how to swim without sinking, spiraling down, right to the high gravity bottom. As a little organism, I knew poetry, but the more I evolved, the less I cared about it, focusing instead on plain survival, swimming furiously away from yarn-like preditors, until I had lost the poetry. It seemed like evolution, or becoming civilized, killed what was artistic in me, until I became another life-form subsisting in a universe for unknown reasons, living without life. It was exactly like evolution, without all that nonesense of evolving.