It was Saturday night. He crawled into my bed and said, "It's the idea of intentionality versus happenstance. I think you might have to risk taking responsibility for accidents as much as for deliberate acts. Because who's to say what you really meant? The whole thing of control is an illusion; we're not really in control of outcomes. I think most people accept that. What's harder to accept is that make we're not really in control of our actions either."
Reality was like a weak dream in early morning. You sense the weakness of the dream - authority and in velvet revolution you rise up, you rise up; you try to take control of the nonsensical narrative -- to guide it toward pleasure, or away from fear. The dream was weak, but so was the dreamer. And another would come and he would go under.