Alternate Realities

Ever since I've started re-reading Carlos Castenada weird things have been happening.  This morning, for example, I came into my office to see a little bird perched on the back of my chair.  Last week a bat was flying around the ceiling in the guest bedroom.  Both flew out the windows I assume they used to enter--but not until we had a little chat.  My dreams have been incredibly vivid:  tearing pages out of a book and crumpling them up and the crumpled up pages on the ground started laughing--may have something to do with my move to epublishing but cool dream nontheless.  The world of critters and alternate realities is integrating with my more accepted reality.  Either I'm moving in the direction of aware or I'm moving in the direction of Nutsy Fagin.  Finished the second Swanson Herbinko Mystery just this week. Writing fiction is like creating alternate realities which is fun as long as you don't stay there I guess.