Dreams are surprisingly energizing. I go to bed every night hoping that I dream well. Many a time I don't. Many a time my life extends into my dreams and many horrific things that I hope never come to fruition release themselves into my non-waking hours. They are so obviously a result of my fears that clearly, the Freudian preconscious has been quite useless in censoring them. The lazy bastards need not even employ subterfuge; they come to my dreams just the way they do to my conscious life.
Other dreams are un-interpretable though. They are full of danger and intrigue and Bond-like* plots of fate and pistols. Surprisingly detailed too. Last night for example I dreamt of a protagonist who escaped from a room with a large iron door sealed by one of those revolving seals, the kind you find on a ship hatch (Too much Battlestar Galactica?). The same dream also involved a housing tenement off North Lamar. Not to mention many fields of beet, potatoes and flowers that I/ the protagonist (who was sometimes a man) skipped and scrolled over in an attempt to flee a clearly slow antagonist (one who wore a cap with a frond). I/we were also surprisingly nimble around corners, fleeing many durwans in a house that looked like a cavern. Oh, and the part where I/we were jumping over beets is when I woke up, heart threatening to jump right out of my lazy body that craved a little more sleep.
And now I am up and about, rustling breakfast, breathing deep, stretching, sinewing and slowly getting out of these interesting dream worlds, so much more desirable than this morning mine.
I hope you all have wonderful days/ nights wherever you are. I leave you with a thought for tonight.
* James, not Gold and not even Jail.