A friend just told me that as a little kid, he climbed trees and howled like a werewolf. At five years old, he believed he was one. During full moons, he went out and climbed the tree.

Another friend described eating banana bread on the back of a motorcycle during a bike trip in Peru.

Who puts such things together? And yet these combinations are everywhere.

The more I let them enter my dreams, the more I consider: none of this could be scripted. Life is stranger than what I could generate with my own mind — if we permit ourselves to be as weird as we actually are.