Dreams.

It is odd to mention the smoke filled tendrils of unconsciousness because that means I have them, again. And to clarify, this is not dreams of what I want to be when I grow up, as we have all determined I don’t want to grow up. This is dream of sleep. The labyrinth of muddled thoughts and false memories of an unedifying future.

While on the subject of clarification, I would also like to clarify that I am not sleeping well, yet. That will come over time. I also want to clarify that I have had dreams, many of them, but they were work dreams. They were not the anxiety dreams of working in the nude or customer service lacking. They were the dreams of me working. No anxiety. No fear. Me just living my life both awake an asleep, with no variety.

I dreamt last night. I dreamt of fear and excitement and victory and defeat and the soft tendrils of the unknown.

But what does that mean?

Nothing.