Dreams are merely fantasies. Or nightmares. They have no hidden meaning; at least their meaning is not hidden from the dreamer. The dreamer understands the dream, if he is willing to take the risk of unwrapping it. But that can drape a shroud over a day. Or a week. Or a month. Or the rest of a lifetime. Dreams may be interpretations that escape one’s psyche, making their way to consciousness.
After waking—and thinking about a dream that erases every trace of positive expectations and hope from one’s mind—writing a blog post has only one purpose: to document a mental experience one wishes, fiercely, to forget. That is not a purpose I will pursue. Not this morning, anyway.
Sometimes.