This morning was interesting. 

Recently I’ve been enjoying a departure from the dream reality, a vacation of sorts; giving me ample opportunity to enjoy restful sleep, recharge my mental batteries, and pretend my life had returned to some vision of normalcy.

A dream caught me by surprise.

My Son-in-Law was involved, he was fixing a device – he was searching for a misplaced a part – a nearly invisible glass connector with golden leads. When he found it, he held it up and I could see it between his thumb and forefinger as it caught the light…

This made me wake up – seeing a hand holding something shiny made my vision zoom in. One of the techniques for Lucid Dreaming is looking down at your own hand (Thanks Christa), this time my attention to the hand was enough to get me there.

Waking up at minutes after one, signaled my return to the oddest hours – as I like to call them, when every interruption occurs like clockwork at 1, 3, and 5 in the morning. Losing sleep makes every dream in-between lucid.

The next dream involved several characters, one being a baby. Every time the baby is involved, I believe that the entity I call “Tricky” (My strongest version of inner-self) is being ‘reborn’ under the radiation of the coming full moon (Oct 28). I was inside a house and as usual there was a mess involved, an older gentleman was there – he was stout and had white hair and I couldn’t equate him with anyone I knew or any celebrity… except maybe his body resembled that of Ernest Borgnine – but he reminded me of someone else. He was helping to clean up, brandishing a mop and nearly swiping over my feet and said “We’ve missed you…” Surprised by the admission from the man my only response was “I missed you too.”

This confirms to me, at least in some unfortunate way that my connection to that place, the Dream Reality is deeper than I could have imagined. I’m the one who abandoned my own dreams, every time I do there is chaos.

A broom appeared in my hand, and I tried helping to pick up the mess on the floor which was scattered with dirt and what I thought was fine gravel or Cat Litter. The man was too quick with the wet mop, making things messier for my taste.

I woke up again, realizing that I looked at my hands holding a broom that was useless. There was a discussion about the baby in the next room – but that part eluded me upon waking. 

Several dreams in a row… I couldn’t keep up with the changing architecture or structure of what was going on, as if a switch had been turned on, or a backlog of information was filling up an empty space in my head.

The only dream I remembered from this spillage, was of a wall with shelves being constructed, where brown colored table books were being placed flat (Sorry Bibliophiles) – I could only interpret this as things finally coming into order, I’m shelving my knowledge or creativity, organizing my thoughts for easier access.

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Gabe Miranda lives a stones throw from uptown Charlotte, enjoys Star gazing and creating chaos on Twitter. Currently working on editing diary posts to self publish his first book.