I HATE NIGHTMARES!! HATE! They make me so mad I could just SPIT!
I have 10 minutes to purge and share before craft camp and YMCA and dinner and cleaning and laundry.
I awoke with Satan laughing in my face. His minions pinned me down as I screamed. He's actually a very handsome devil. Don't look in his eyes though. Hell isn't pretty. It's damn hot in there.
There were loved ones and death and murder and I in the middle trying to protect every party involved. And when my mind goes back to that awful scene tears spring to my eyes and my throat closes up and vertigo sets in.
Dreams like this are rare for me.
I woke up crying and shaking at 5am with a violent urge to vomit. 3 hours of sleep I got. Another reason why I'm piss and vinegar today.
Love will kill you. It will. When you love hard there is everything to lose.
I have magic dreams.
Sometimes they are crazy. Like when Smurfs chase me up a tree in an attempt to shove blue jell-o down my gullet. Or that dream where I'm flying on my broomstick and all is well. I know those dreams are just silly.
But I have Real Dreams too. Dreams that serve as warnings to those less in tune with their own lives. Dreams saturated in Truth. Last night was one of those. There will be no physical murder. But there will be pain. I feel it. I hate it.
My husband thought my Magic Dreams were creative lies and fantasy for the first year of marriage. Now the skeptic believes. He's worried about me today.
You can believe. Or not. It makes no difference.
My son and his friend are running about my house with underwear on their heads shouting, "I'll kick the spicy out of you!"
I can't help but laugh and be grateful life is not a dream but a sleep and a forgetting.
