Tell me I'm not in need of a therapist. I dare you.
Oh, the strange dreams I've been having recently. I almost always have some degree of control over my own dreams, and I more than almost always remember them. Which makes the following a bit more baffling.
I found myself mid-slumber in a familiar wooded area that I dream of when the scenery of any particular dream isn't especially important. You know, like when my subconscious wants to fret about me getting older or being stressed out. This time though, there were no signs of anything like that - only a single piece of paper on the ground. It was in my own handwriting, presumably left by me for someone (maybe even myself) to find. On it was a poem of sorts, similar to the following:
On these clear nights I wonder
of which stars I'm seen under
We roll dice into the thunder
as dreams are torn asunder.
Now, see I'm thinking this is pretty fucked up. Though they wouldn't necessarily make bad lyrics to a song, but I'm going to have to figure out exactly what this means first. Don't be shy with your own thoughts on this one.
***
In other news, I saw the greatest thing on the way to work this morning. I turned onto the main road toward the office and noticed an armored truck a few cars in front of me. It had its rear doors swinging wide open. Never have I so badly wanted to begin a life of grand larceny, like some modern day automotive pirate captain. If I had someone to drive and pull alongside the truck while I deftly scrambled into it and started lobbing bags through the car window, I probably wouldn't be here writing this.
I'd either be on a tropical island somewhere, or in a 10x8 cell fending a large man off with a plastic spork. It kind of feels like one of those Rocky and Bullwinkle moments, where they'd stop the show right as I've got a couple fistfuls of money. The cheesy announcer would come on and say, "Will he make off with the cash? Join us next week, where the episode will either be 'mai-tais' or 'man thighs'!"
I found myself mid-slumber in a familiar wooded area that I dream of when the scenery of any particular dream isn't especially important. You know, like when my subconscious wants to fret about me getting older or being stressed out. This time though, there were no signs of anything like that - only a single piece of paper on the ground. It was in my own handwriting, presumably left by me for someone (maybe even myself) to find. On it was a poem of sorts, similar to the following:
On these clear nights I wonder
of which stars I'm seen under
We roll dice into the thunder
as dreams are torn asunder.
Now, see I'm thinking this is pretty fucked up. Though they wouldn't necessarily make bad lyrics to a song, but I'm going to have to figure out exactly what this means first. Don't be shy with your own thoughts on this one.
***
In other news, I saw the greatest thing on the way to work this morning. I turned onto the main road toward the office and noticed an armored truck a few cars in front of me. It had its rear doors swinging wide open. Never have I so badly wanted to begin a life of grand larceny, like some modern day automotive pirate captain. If I had someone to drive and pull alongside the truck while I deftly scrambled into it and started lobbing bags through the car window, I probably wouldn't be here writing this.
I'd either be on a tropical island somewhere, or in a 10x8 cell fending a large man off with a plastic spork. It kind of feels like one of those Rocky and Bullwinkle moments, where they'd stop the show right as I've got a couple fistfuls of money. The cheesy announcer would come on and say, "Will he make off with the cash? Join us next week, where the episode will either be 'mai-tais' or 'man thighs'!"