No, you may not see my thoughts. Yes, it's a wondrous place—there are many pretty things inside my head. A few weird, all interesting and wonderful and happy things. Oh, yes, it's a beautiful place, this place of mine. Like an open meadow? you ask. Well. Yes. Except it's not so open, definitely not meant to be inviting. This place is all mine, after all. I do not have wildflowers free for the picking, nor herbs for the healing; there are no cool streams for your comfort. I suppose you could describe it— my head —as a dragon's lair, brightly packed with all my hoarded gems. Mine to keep . Not that I don't let things get out of my space, and away from me. When I need more space for my lovely, growing collection, I give much to the peasants. Anything that makes my heart unhappy is theirs... yours. Anything worthless must be out so my mind and soul and heart can remain happy and free and elated. I dig to make the hole deeper, safer for my gems... all the excess dirt...