No lions and tigers, but oh, my

Some time after five this morning, I started to dream – very vividly and so realistically that I thought in my dream, “This can’t be a dream so I had better get used to what is going on.” I also at one point thought, “If I am going to wake up, this would be a good time.” Finally I did, but it was a slow climbing out of a deep boot-sucking ravine of grogginess. I can remember snatches of the nightmare and that is actually more than I want to recall. I suppose it was constructed out of my symbolized deepest worries and fears. I never did like symbolism. But, at least, it is over. I think. I have had instances in which I have “awoken” from one dream into another . . . and that is crushingly terrifying or disheartening.

Everything is in physical disarray around me; see, you can hide a lot in vocabulary: everything is MESSY. And after my nightmare, I embrace the messiness – the wonderful, wonderful clutter.