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Beauty and the Beast

Last night I had a dream about Big Foot.
I think it was mostly about belief.

We were in a pretty cabin - light wood that smelled like it had just been cut. It was autumn - just cold enough to need a heavier jacket at night. Everyone brought red and black plaid lumberjack style coats.
And I was there because I was invited to be - to take part in some ridiculous hunt for Big Foot. I was the only one who didn't believe.
They were all inside going over gear when I remembered something in the car. I got it and was back inside the house when I turned around to pull the door shut and I saw Big Foot walk through the clearing in front of our cabin and into the trees.

And I never said a word. I never told any of them what I'd seen even though the rest of the trip turned up zero evidence. Even though I knew they so desperately wanted to know he existed. Even though I knew they'd believe me - me the skeptic...

I knew what I saw the moment I saw it and knew I could probably see it again - just because I wasn't looking... And I think that maybe that was the point of the whole dream - That just when you know something for sure, you're proven wrong.

And it made me sad. To have had that special secret glimpse. To know I was just so wrong...
You think you know a guy... You know?

Ben Harper got it right: "People don't change. They just reveal."

What good is knowing a thing you'll never tell?
Once you see the monster, do you ever see the man again?

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