It was 3 am. I was awake for god knows what reason, and I was thirsty, really really thirsty. I didn’t have a bottle in my room, so I got out of bed and placed my feet firmly on the ground, and just started pacing back and forth. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. But, when I came to, I was in the ocean. Well, I was the ocean. I could feel the fish and plankton and life swimming about. I wanted to consume an island. But that would be cannibalism, as I am an island. Look at my erect trees, my dangling coconuts. I have a native species of crabs. But I’m seriously out here alone in the middle of my room. Hahaha…. Life’s a bitch. Wait, or was it a beach?
Now I’m a mighty beech tree in the Appalachian mountain range. My roots connect me to my fellow….. Wait, I thought the saying was “life’s a bitch?”. Suddenly I’m locked in a cramped cage with a bone-shaped brisket as giants stomp around outside. I tried to scream, but I can only woof. Think, think, “life’s a… dog?” But if life is a dog, then what is death? A cat, of course, for they are a known enemy of the dog. On the Chinese zodiac, the dog is one of the twelve animals of life. Do the others not count then? Oh, wait! Is there only one year out of every 12 years with life? So the other 11 are just dreams?