"There I was, walking down the street, minding my own business when I'm attacked... by my own mind." - Black Wally
There's a spider in my head the size of a man's hand, hairy & wriggling, scrabbling to get out.
So I let it. Out, I mean.
My head splits open like two halves of a book, and it emerges, the creature, to purr and click at the open air... then begins to multiply.
Soon, a latticework of interlocked arachnids radiate out from my head, reaching towards the sky.
They assume a 2 dimensional aspect, and as one, their little mandibles moving in hurky-jurky unison, they sing:
"The hills are alive with the sound of music"
Or something equally ridiculous.
Then, antics exhausted and feeling warmed by the sun, they slowly dissipate into the valley amidst rows of dew-laden green-leafed crops and though a hint of shiny black carapace or segmented leg may be glimpsed here and there, they soon fade from view and become one with their pastoral surroundings.
Dreamt last night you were high above a primeval forest, reclining on the shoulder of a giant, ape-like creature covered in white hair and unmoving save the slightest sparkle in its eye, and it's hair moving in the breeze.
It was perhaps Spring, but with a late, wet snow crested upon fallen logs and tree branches, like thick butter icing on cakes, and the delicate, radiant green of new buds peeking through, mixed in with shadowy branches and light reflected from translucent pools dotting the landscape behind.
A light mist hovered near the peaty ground, and I am now reminded of a photo I once took outside Dekalb, IL.
What this has to do with the price of tea in China I have no idea.