Dreams are other places, other lives. In a dream I can erase the distinction between what I believe to be real and what I don’t. I know far more in my dreams than I will ever in my wakefulness, because in my dreams there is no unknown. In my dreams there is nothing I cannot know and which may transcend my waking, if I believe in my waking, to be understood on the other side. You see, here I am already beginning to talk about the veil that separates us, my waking and my sleeping self.
        I believe that, when we are awake, we look for similar veils. Some can become shrouds, such as computer screens where some of us watch intentions march like ants, or shift like sand in the desert: the likes and the announcements and the –ix of flix and pix, or the –r or -er of tubmblr, flicker, grindr and twitter. X! Rrrr! These sound so angry, like spitting, growling, fighting sounds. Perhaps it is desire, fighting to the death, so the screen becomes a shroud. Draw a veil over it. I am, a man might say, a respectable man; and then with the veil drawn, he is sometimes compelled to look forever into the brightness of the internet. We are drawn to light, not darkness, even when we need the lights to go out..
        The other veils: the coat of my profession, the badge of my courage, my holiday destination or the book in my hand. These are the things which might separate us.