There is a city I dream of repeatedly that I believe is supposed to be somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, either in the U.S. or in Canada. The first time I dreamt about it, I thought that it was Seattle, although most of its features don’t at all correspond to what little I know of Seattle, and it doesn’t match with Vancouver either. The dream I had last night seemed to associate it with Calgary, but this is clearly wrong since it is not on the ocean, nor is it near any other bodies of water.

It is interesting that N has adopted (independently [of me]) a fatalistic flip side to my theory: Nothing is real until it is shared. While I would emphasize the fragile transcience¹ transience of creative thought and the need to commit things to paper if direct communication is not available, she would declare that bad things wouldn't happen if you didn't mention them. It isn't just a simple aversion to ill-speaking, but rather, like I said, a type of fatalismm: if you imagine a bad thing, and share it, it can't help but come true…