Dreams

Wild vivid dreams, imagination. Midday rest often gives me this. Spooning naked with my wife this afternoon, sweat sheening my chest (so much so that water droplets formed on my fingers as I raked them across) I had dreams. Three in fact, all emotional, all both devastating and comforting.

I had no control over them, usually at some point I can seize control at the waking stage and direct my actions, this time they were like movies I watched from behind my own eyes. I was the star of the delicate tragi-comedies that played out yet I could do nothing to change anything. One was in a casino, the other in bed and the third was somewhere else. I don't remember the place, but I do remember sweat and at least three women, and yes we were all naked.

That lead-in was the matinée of the triple feature, a light on intellect, primal and raw, an action film mixed with porn. The remaining two shook me in so many subtle ways, guilt, anger, frustration and love.

I need to figure out what they mean, I need to write.