Monday, September 19, 2005

Dreams are weird and stupid and they scare me.

There is another version of the tale. That is the tale the women tell each other, in their private language that the men-children are not taught, and that the old men are too wise to learn. And in that version of the tale perhaps things happened differently. But then, that is a women's tale, and it is never told to men. From SANDMAN #9: "Tales in the Sand" For love is no part of the dream-world. Love belongs to desire, and desire is always cruel. From SANDMAN #9: "Tales in the Sand" (page 15) I've started in a trade. Working with a friend of mine. It won't last. But it's a new trade. It's called printing. Don't need to be a guild member —not yet. Never be a real demand for it, mind you. Hard work. Hob Gadling, in SANDMAN #13: "Men of Good Fortune" Her kind walk amidst the flotsam of lives they have sacrificed, for their own purposes, till friendless and alone they needs must make the final sacrifice. Dream, on Lady Johanna Constantine, in SANDMAN #13: "Men of Good Fortune" "Death's a capricious thing, innit?" "Yes. Yes, she is." Hob Gadling and Dream, in SANDMAN #13: "Men of Good Fortune" I doubt I'm any wiser than I was five hundred years back. I'm older. I've been up, and been down, and been up again. Have I learned aught? I've learned from my mistakes, but I've had more time to commit more mistakes. Hob Gadling, in SANDMAN #13: "Men of Good Fortune" "If I hear another of your theological paradoxes, I'll scream. Frankly, today I don't care if God exists or not." "I doubt He feels likewise, Miss Walker." Rose Walker and Gilbert ("Fiddler's Green" assuming human guise in the form of Gilbert K Chesterton) in SANDMAN #14: "Collectors" And they left, slowly, one by one, with reluctance, leaving the safety of the light for the chill certainties of the darkness.It seemed like the night sucked them up, took them into its dark heart. It seemed like the darkness swallowed them... Perhaps it did. The Cereal (serial killer) convention breaks up, in SANDMAN #14: "Collectors" "Do you know what Freud said about dreams of flying? It means you're really dreaming about having sex." "Indeed? Tell me, then, what does it mean when you dream about having sex?" Rose Walker and Dream, in SANDMAN #15: "Into The Night" I left because I was curious. And because I was tired. Life as a human contains substance I never dreamed of in the Dreaming, Lord. The little victories, and the tiny defeats. I had my reasons. Gilbert (Fiddler's Green) in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" "I do not understand— " "Of course you don't. You're obviously not very bright, but I shouldn't let it bother you." Dream and Unity Kinkaid, in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" If my dream was true, then everything we know, everything we think we know is a lie. It means the world's about as solid and as reliable as a layer of scum on the top of a well of black water which goes down forever, and there are things in the depths that I don't even want to think about. It means that we're just dolls. We don't have a clue what's really going down, we just kid ourselves that we're in control of our lives while a paper's thickness away things that would drive us mad if we thought about them for too long play with us, and move us around from room to room, and put us away at night when they're tired, or bored. Rose Walker, in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" Dreams are weird and stupid and they scare me. Rose Walker, in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" "And then she woke up." I suppose there are worse endings. Rose Walker in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" Desire, listen to me carefully. Remember this. We of the endless are the servants of the living— we are not their masters. We exist because they know, deep in their hearts, that we exist. Dream, in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" Human beings are the creatures of desire. They twist and bend as I require it. If I thought otherwise, I would crack, like Delirium; or I would abandon my realm, like our lost brother. Desire, in SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts" And Desire walks the endless pathways of its body, certain that he, or she, or it, is in sole and only control of its destiny. The only inhabitant of the twilight realm of Desire; and it feels nothing like a doll. Nothing like a doll at all. SANDMAN #16: "Lost Hearts"