“My Trials and Tribulations with Dreaming”

Having a bad Reality, at times, is one thing.
Having bad Dreams all night about said bad Reality???
O M F G it S U C K S.
The one place I hope to escape to…
…continues to be one more place I can’t really get to.
I really was a much happier person when I could go to sleep and it was like stepping off into the blackness of space (((because I’d be in such a deep deep sleep))).
Now, it’s like falling off of a cliff into a world of twisted and fucked half-memories.

I try to change my current Reality, in the hopes of bettering my future Reality.
But, when it comes to past Reality, I’m helpless.
We all are, I know that.
So…
…I guess I really need to learn how to change my Dreams.
Riiiiiiiiiiight?

Mkay.

Sooo…

HOW DOES ONE DO THAT???

At moments like this, I truly envy people like My Father.

He always told me he rarely, if ever, remembers his Dreams.

I remember the bulk of mine.

And mine are rarely, if ever, pleasant.

Even those with pleasant moments are often still bad Bad BAD Dreams.

It really is ALMOST enough to push a person tooooooooooooooooo far, sometimes.

Sleep is supposed to be restful, riiiiight?

You’re not supposed to feel worse when you awaken of a morning, correct??

And, YES, I’ve had sleep-studies done.

Nothing wrong with my breathing, nor anything else they could honestly measure.

I’ve talked to ((literally)) dozens of shrinks in my lifetime.

I’ve taken every medication they can think of to sling in my direction.

And, yet, here I sit.

Typing this.

Telling you, My Peeps, instead of yet another doctor that doesn’t seem to understand a goddamn thing about Me, nor My Situation.

I don’t want a lot of My Memories.

I don’t want a lot of My Reality.

But, MOST OF ALL, I don’t want to keep having these Dreams.

I accept My Memories.

I accept some of My Reality.

But, I do NOT accept that My “Dreamland” must be tainted.

I can’t accept that.

I won’t accept that.

Period.

So... Are YOU Jivin Me -questionmark-

I Remain Conscious, Even While Dreaming In My Sleep.

—At Least, I’m Pretty Sure I Do.  It Feels Like I Do.  When I Wake-Up Wake-Up, I’m Exhausted. Regardless Of How Long I’ve Laid There, I’m Exhausted.

It Doesn’t Make Sense.

I Remember My Dreams… …All Of My Dreams.

My Dreams Are (put mildly) Simply Fu*ked-Up.

Period.

They’re Wild.

They’re Vivid.

They’re Crazy.

They’re Awesome.

They’re Dangerous.

They’re Beautiful.

They’re Horrid.

They’re Amazing.

They’re Disturbing.

All At The Same Time.

If Our Dreams Are A Reflection Of Ourselves, Our True Selves, Then I Sincerely Haven’t A Clue As To What To Say Next.

Perhaps I Sincerely Shouldn’t Have A Clue As To What To Say Next.

I Already Feel Like An “Odd Duck” In Many MANY Ways, So I Just Hope That, In This Instance, I’m No More Odd Than The Rest Of You.

Dreams Are A Very Funny Thing, My Peeps.

Sometimes, I Wish They’d Come True.

Sometimes, I Pray They Don’t Come True.

Sometimes, I Know They’re Going To Come True Whether I Want Them To Or Not.

Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes.

Sheesh.

Let The Day Begin, Already.

Time, Brother, You’re Holding Me Up.

I’ve A Place To Go…

…A Person To See…

…A Life To Live.

Right, Kids?!

RIGHT!!!—

So... Are YOU Jivin Me -questionmark-