Cigarettes and milk?!?

Today a dream woke me up at 6 am (which, believe me, never happens!!!). It was most real and silly. In it I was reading somebody's post on their blog and it was just a short paragraph that told the complete essence of who the blogger truly was, with total sincerity, baring all in a most matter of facted manner. It started (only part I remember) with "I love cigarettes and milk" (which is obviously a barely disguised rip off of Rufus Waiwright's, and a very weird way of starting a description of oneself -oh oh my brain...)... and it moved me so, it woke me up.
I'm probably tired of my own self-editing as well as everybody else's. Which on the other hand is unavoidable (oops, did it again, eliminated half the post!).
I don't know what would the emotional cost of so much sincerity be. Got me to thinking that maybe all the pretending in the world is for survival's sake after all, much less exhausting. Well, I know some really well adapted people then...
Musicians are somehow an exception, it's a big part of their charm.
And why I write this silly post I don't know. Probably because nobody reads these nonmusic non art posts -hopefully. Can't help it.