Some times I really wish I could remember my dreams - - if any thing it would explain some of those nights/mornings were I wake up more tired than when I went to sleep. Never to really know why the blankets, pillows and sheets separated and dispersed to different corners of the mattress.
Occasionally I am granted fleeting snapshots during the "between times" where the realms of the sleeping bleed into the realms of the waking. The images so vibrant that you could swear you were there, the sounds so strong and clear. . . many times I so dearly want to go back to return and finish that which was started, but that is a rare gift in deed.
If I can make a waking link then the it seems that the tenuous grasp becomes a little easier to hold on to, if only for a little longer.
Recently though with all the chaos I remember waking and for a while I had the strongest impression I'd just survived a massive boulder avalanche.
The imagery was one of the classics used by so many storytellers - where the rubble has buried someone alive, only their hand exposed, struggling to escape their rocky encasement, then suddenly falling limp as the entombed either passes out or passes on.
I can't explain it - I just feel like some how I survived it. . . whatever 'it' is. All I can explain is the impressions I have and the boulder slide was an aftermath from something bigger, I can almost lay odds on that part, if nothing else. . .
Which is better than I can say for my computer - - shortly after the dream the hard drive went belly up right at the end of a long, frustrating day no less :P More on that later if I remember.
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