Thursday, August 6, 2009

It's 12:30 AM

And I'm actually afraid to go to sleep because for the first time in my life, I'm having nightmares. I have seriously, never in 30 years had nightmares. The occasional anxiety dream, yes. But not full-on night terrors. What compounds this is the uncanny memory I have for my dreams. I wake up every morning with a full mental account of what happened during my psychic slumber.

When people would tell me about their nightmares, I would act like I understood. Maybe I even believed I understood, but I don't really think I did. I don't think I understood how dreams affect your state of mind, your state of being, because my dreams have always been magical, illuminating, informative, absurd and uncanny, fun. I actually look forward to sleep because of dreams, as weird as that sounds. And tonight, for the first time, I don't want to sleep because I'm scared of what I'll dream. I'm scared of what will be unearthed. I'm scared that I'm entirely ill-equipped to listen to the messages that are coming my way.

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