My ego and public persona were hanging out with Carl Jung within an Archetypal Dream. Sometimes Carl preferred to be called, ‘Carla.’ I could roll with that, my difficulty wasn’t in the use of competing pronouns. You see, Carl and Carla kept fighting, back and forth, within it’s self, and I found that terribly annoying. So to interrupt the obnoxious bickering, I interjected, “One, YOU ARE NOT REAL! and secondly, would you PLEASE, TURN DOWN the VOLUME of that SHADOW Amplifier in the corner, because it causing TOO MUCH FEEDBACK.” Carl complied, and Carla remarked to me, “Listen, I have listened in exhaustive detail about your life. I am not entertained by this crazy bullshit. Don’t analyze this dream or any other for that matter, it will be a complete waste of your time. Carl was wrong about that… To put it simply, YOU..ARE..A..MADMAN. Psychologists will be of no value to you. My advice is to TAKE YOUR PILLS, the PSYCHIATRIC MEDICATION, get in touch with an ENEMA, and all will be well.” At that I woke up, proclaiming, “At least, that was fun! Time to get organized.” then… I burped.