It has ceased to rain and begun to snow, and I can't even..
Nights and dreams are an oddball team of malicious intents.
they dip into the ancient archives of buried history stowed away in the darkest folds of your subconscious. Memories that you'd kicked into the dingiest most secretive corner in the vain hopes that they'd never be found again. Hoping they'd melt into nothing the same way a stray ice cube does, when you carelessly kick it under the refrigerator.
Not only are these sizzling bits of regrettable moments found, but they're also played in cinemascopic dream HD with a clarity that trumps the most sophisticated 4K television, in crystal clear diamond hue, plastered across your eyes, while you see in 3D, those glaring mistakes you couldn't that moment ever find.
Oh how the dreams cook up a melange of all your moments so deplorable in hindsight, that you've winced and worked hard to forget..and lo they regurgitate in a sewage rainbow of all night dreams..so real, they jolt you awake, and you heave a sigh of relief that none of it was real. It's all gone now..but you're sweating in a weather that's almost iceberg cozy..and you hate that you remember all that you'd pretended to forget, and like a lovely midnight sadist you try to remember it all again, clutching your blankets with sweaty palms.
You know what the dream was about but can't remember it, think hard and it slips further, like trying to balance a drop of mercury on your fingertips. The plot is hazy, but you know the script by heart ..a soft mumble to yourself followed by uneasy burrowing under sheets, a billion toss and turns and a silent prayer for an odd nightmare that can make you forget this dream.
