This morning I woke up after a strange but not overly disturbing dream and thought, well, that one wasn’t so bad. Then it occurred to me that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a happy dream. Or even if I’d ever had one. My sleep tends to be either dreamless or else fraught with anxiety dreams (or worse), many with recurring themes, and so I wake up either (preferred) drifting out of a dark sleepy fog or (more often) jolted awake, awash with deep seeded panic and dread. And don’t even get me started on some of the haunting images that sometimes take all day to shake off. And so I wondered… are happy dreams a myth? Does anyone have happy dreams any more? Did we ever? How about you?
casa azahar 
I know it’s happened, because I’ve got fuzzy memories of resenting having to wake up, but I’d really have to check the files.
Yeah, I have a file where intermittently I have a spell of writing down dreams.
Okay, here’s a thing I dreamed twenty years ago: I am exploring a cioty in an alternate reality. There is virtually no litter. It’s quiet and peaceful. It’s civilization as I would define it yet which I have never seen in existence. As we go through the almost empty streets we cross paths with a woman traffic officer who has made a stop. She’s offering the person she stopped a drink of water. The idea is that this is a place where everyone really has a conscience. A person stopped by the police is grateful for having been prevented from causing an accident through carelessness and the police regard themselves as benevolent and have no need to throw their weight around.
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I love reading about your dreams on your blog. Mine are just fucked up, your the stuff of legend.
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awwwwww. Maybe that will make me go back to updating.
Last night, after nightmaring about unmasked people, I dreamed that the Engineer and I lived in a house a lot like his old place, and six or so cats sauntered in the open door of the walkout basement, meowing for food. We got some and I noticed one of them moving a little oddly and making a queer squeaking sound, and when I got a good look at its muzzle I said “babe, that’s an opossum.”
Sounds all too likely.
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