“My momma always said, life was like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get. Life is a box of chocolates.” — Forrest Gump
Okay, so that quote has nothing to do with this post. I’m just terrible at writing hooks. Trying to write a good intro makes me think back to that scene in Frasier where Professor Tewkesbury asks Frasier to treat himself, and Tewkesbury quickly knocks down the distracted directions Crane takes. “Stalling”; “redefining the problem”; “re-diagnosing.” And it ends where I tend to land: he can’t help himself.
So. I might as well get on to the damned thing.
Wednesday. I’d dreamt two things in particular: being challenged, and losing (sort of). And like any dream interpreted after the fact… dreams are weird. After all, they are the side effect of the brain refreshing and repairing itself. The meaning we have for things in our activities of the day may be brought up again as bonds gets strengthened. And then there’s the influence of entertainment. There’s something about the way Gotham releases inhibitions… or used to since I’ve not watched a full episode as it’s still being run dead against Supernatural, in the same time slot.
In Wednesday’s dreams, you had your share of mundane elements such as sitting in a movie theater… if I have it right because those elements became vague when I woke up. But the first thing to stand out… and I can’t believe I’m writing this… I’m in a scene, on set, acting with… Donald Trump. He is an actor, after all; you should have seen him at the “State of the Uniom.” 😉 Toward the end of the dream, he challenged me to a race to the bottom of a stairwell. I had my dream tactic of dropping down the center— gripping on to railings, and falling again— but he was somehow matching my speed. In real life, he challenges the country’s standards all the way down to Constitutional order itself. And in dreamworld, it seems he would challenge the laws of physics!
In a latter dream, I was on social media. …Which makes it clear that I’m on twitter too often for the wrong reasons. By the end, I was on my best friend’s twitter, and… apart from the Stranger Things media, there were the reinforcements in how she’s moved on. Let’s just say, it was both realistic but also out of character how better-represented the content was because… how can I say it? In real life, twitter sucks. Normally, the fact she’s moved on wouldn’t bother me. I know attachments can get toxic, and I have to deal with that. But I’m not normal, and I still think of her as more than just some friend half a world away; she is someone I love dearly. Not even being able to physically hug her, it doesn’t hurt me. Just… like twitter, it sucks.
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So, yeah. The dreams were telling.
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Well, thanks for getting through this useless post. Sweet dreams, everybody! 👋
