...that my foot was set upon the Way with assurance, and as I walked in that strait way, I met another man whose body was strangely bent. "Who art thou?", I asked. And he replied, "I am Half-Twist, and I am bound for Lancaster Gate. Shall we walk together?" But I replied to him, "Is it not writ in that Little Book that informeth us of the Destination and the Way thereto, that those who half-twist to that place shall meet with ruin and destruction? Change thy way, I beseech thee, and walk a better." But he scorned me, and cast me into Knip, and I could not escape. Then I might have despaired, but I remembered that saying that says, when the diagonals are closed, inaction is the strongest action. So I sat down, and farkled awhile, and at length fell asleep and dreamed...

...that I'd woken up. Or had I in fact woken up? I wasn't sure, so I attempted to get out of bed, only to realise that despite being in my bed I was not in fact in my bedroom, but on top of a mountain. Satisfied I was still dreaming, I snuggled back under the covers and dreamt...

*wakes up*

I do fancy analysis, if you get my drift.

. . . my best friend fell in love with a giant white octopus that lived in the pond near her house. She would ride on one of it's arms every day and she would bounce up and down and get really wet and not care.