I had a pair of weird dreams this weekend. They’re worth remembering. I’m not sure what the hell they mean, but they’re also worth considering. (For me, I mean… I’m not sure what your interest is. Consider it another webside tale.)
Now, I’ve never had a nightmare. The one time I did have a nightmare, it turned out to be reality. I don’t mean that in a metaphorical (or even metaphysical) way, as in, “My marriage turned out to be a nightmare.” I mean, what supposedly was a bad dream, wasn’t a dream at all, but a misinterpretation of reality. (Actually, we’re back to my marriage again.)
I mean dreams, literal dreams. When you sleep dreams. I’ve never had a bad one. Except for the time when I was just post infant (headed for post modern), and I had what I was told was a bad dream about a bird running across my New York City bedroom floor. Except later my rents found a mouse in the house (or something house mouse-like). So that was no bird.