conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a plot for a book about Thoughts, audio entitled Night Thoughts?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night Thoughts (audio drama): The gathering of a group of academics in an isolated mansion is shattered by a troubling sequence of events: first, a terrible storm, then the arrival of three strangers, and then a gruesome murder.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night Thoughts
  Although the dream poems are best read sequentially, they may also be read by dipping in and out. The notes, however, should be read as a narrative, from start to finish.
  The index offers a way to relocate or cross-reference some of the images, colors and other dream-related thoughts that occur and recur in the poems and notes.
  Many poems behave like dreams, chasing associative patterns through the mind, using riffs and non sequiturs. They draw on the unconscious mind in their development of thought patterns. A poem can be like a dream, dancing around an idea and avoiding it.
  These poems, however, directly describe dreams I had long ago during a psychoanalysis and the associative thoughts that followed—as I free-associated from the dreams in my analyst's office or wrote out my dream thoughts. The dreams are inextricably linked in my mind with those thoughts.
  Several years into the analysis, I began to travel often for work, and I started the practice of writing out my dream associations in longhand immediately after writing down the dreams. At first I wrote half a page, later I often wrote six pages, or seven. It usually took six pages to write out every thought and to come to something that seemed to be the dream's meaning or message. This was often a sequence of connected memories, and often alluded to the same set of traumatic events that occurred when I was eleven or twelve years old. I got in the habit of writing out my dream notes every day, even while not traveling. The order and timing of the events was a matter of intense importance—since I felt that if I knew when the events happened and in what order, I could understand how they had happened. Again and again I described the clothes I was wearing, the season, the weather, the room, the car, in an effort to establish a timeline. Sometimes I thought I had it figured out, and then the memories simply slipped.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is four more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I was wearing a pink and white cotton shirt the day I was photographed eating watermelon, another coincidence.
  The Tom in "pink pistachios" was the younger brother of some girls I knew. Manly and dark-haired, he resembled my father at that age.
  After the evening I was called down to the red living room, I wasn't able to look at my father. I never climbed on his lap anymore.
  I had wandered alone through the orchards in deep winter, where a red and pink sunset streaked the ice-heavy snow.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I had wandered alone through the orchards in deep winter, where a red and pink sunset streaked the ice-heavy snow.. I never climbed on his lap anymore.
  After the evening I was called down to the red living room, I wasn't able to look at my father. Manly and dark-haired, he resembled my father at that age.
  The Tom in "pink pistachios" was the younger brother of some girls I knew.I was wearing a pink and white cotton shirt the day I was photographed eating watermelon, another coincidence
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs? End with the sentence '4'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: After a trauma, the mind weaves a pattern around it, collecting events from any part of life—before, after—to create the mental puzzle that forms the obsessive fantasy, the phobic experience.
  I asked the cat if he was punished. He said no, his father had told him that sex was powerful, and that he must always 'take care of' those with whom he had it.
  I had a doubt: he should have known; after all, he had been fifteen to my barely twelve. And yet, the confession was assuaging.
  The index is imaginative, not exhaustive. Page numbers in bold indicate that the entry is the title of a poem.
  Quaker, quakerish, Quakerism wooden shop 26.1; mother's wedding dress 67.1, nts.1; no problem called 'sin' nts.2; father as activist nts.3; friends nts.4