dreams are beautiful things. memories of a past unlived, premonitions of a future never to be, walks amid a not life. these are the things that visit in my sleep, provoked by plans, instigated by email, past recollections blending with predictions developing replicants, people i used to know, stopped knowing, and can only guess, hypotheses, educated extrapolate, extend the things, the patterns, the holograms of personality, to a future state, much like police sketch artists can sometimes "age" a previous unsolved murder suspect. and then tomorrow reality will crash together with my preformed memory