Dreams

I know I had a good sleep last night and I’m sure it was because I could enjoy dreaming through it.  I know I dreamt and was aware of what it was that I had dreamt as I woke, but before I could even think of writing it down “powf” and it was gone.  I can’t recall any of it now, not a sausage.  Only the other morning (well over a week ago) I did write down some notes and remembered where I’d put them.  That night’s dreaming was in three acts.  The hornets in the dream weren’t out to sting me, I remember that bit and I think the first act made me want to use the vacuum cleaner the next morning.  As for meaning in dreams, I’m not so sure.  For I always imagine dreams are like a little imp in our memory’s library, having fun, ripping little bits from a book here and a journal there, then making up bonkers silly stories from the scraps.  Glue pot in one hand, scrap in t’other and having a right lovely time of it.  It’s best not to make too much out of the silly stories, especially if they are sad or scary.  People pay good money to be scared, going to see a scary film and if you dream something like that for free, well bonus.  Anyways, here’s my notes for those that enjoy trying to work out what that night’s entertainment meant, enjoy:

dream

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