Dreamsight is 20/20

I wrote something yesterday morning intending it to be worthy of my first blog, but in hindsight, it makes no sense. Therein lies the problem with writing down a dream. When I woke up, it was so profound that my entire life was about to change simply from the memory of it! I was going to become a better person, start building toward my waking dreams, to fulfill my full potential at last. I just needed to write it down so I could call upon my muse when I was fully awake! What follows is the masterpiece I wrote, copied for your enlightenment and the betterment of our world!

I would like to say that I had the most bizarre dream ever last night, but that would be a lie. (The one with the giant chicken was pretty damned weird.) No, it was like most of my dreams, in that it felt like it could totally happen. Sort of.

I was living with my family again, dragged back to high school. We resided in a massive house that never actually existed, and couldn't exist because it was stuck together like The Burrow from Harry Potter. There were walls missing in some places, stairs that went through walls and outside to go up to the next floor, a swimming pool in the middle, and who knows what else. It was awesome, really. If I had that house, I'd give tours for five dollars a person, and it'd be a bargain.

*house*

I was rich; very, very rich. So rich that my daughter went to private school and I had private jets and helicopters and several bedrooms. Yes, somehow high school was mashed together with the present, but I never question these things.

One dark and stormy night (why not?), two people tried to break into my house and steal it. I'm pretty sure they actually attempted to steal the entire house, and parts of it broke during the ensuing battle. I, being the epitome of wisdom, kindness, and patience that I am, realized somehow that they weren't actually after my house or my money. They were only poor and down on their luck, and desperate for salvation.

*angel*

Of course I immediately offered the lady thief's daughter a place at the private school and bought her her own house. She sobbed and thanked me, and all I could think was that I felt a lot better, considering my fabulous life was a sham. My house was missing walls and had a parking garage on the second floor, for chrissake! Not to mention my grandparents had just died and I had no clue where my family had gone off to. Thank goodness my daughter was in school and oblivious.

Anyway, I decided to invite my friends over. All of them, for an epic party. My dad was around again, and I was back in high school. But after the attempted burglary, at least the house had been repaired and was a proper mansion. I'd hate to have friends over to a messy house.

The first person to arrive was someone from halfway across the country. I seriously hadn't expected her because we've never met face to face, but there she was with a backpack, ready to go. I think her mom drove her. I was still recovering from the shock when another friend in that same part of the country showed up. Screw being shocked at this point. I was ready to have fun!

*party*

The possibilities were endless. We could mock the fact that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and just sit around talking and watching movies, or we could go out and make a public nuisance of ourselves, which I'd never bother doing alone. We could all go on a pilgrimage to Disney World, or fly off to some exotic locale, or my alarm could go off just when someone else was arriving.

*kill snooze*

NINE MORE MINUTES! I only had to fall asleep for nine more minutes to see who else would show up!

*desperate attempt*

Being as excited as I was, there was no falling asleep and I cursed myself for not having gone to bed half an hour sooner so the dream could have finished! But no! Then I'd have missed the friend I talked to before bed and it might never have happened! All I could do was treasure what I had, like a child who lost all but one marble down the grate.

*marbles in grate*

*save one*

*cuddle*

*stare*

*closeup, with dreamhouse*

Looking over it now, I don't think this is going to alter my life, though I do like the addition of directions. I think those were meant to become pictures. *shrug* I can pick through it all to find bits of truth, like the deep-seated fear of losing my home, and my wish for the means to help others the way I've been helped, but the dream is missing one important point; how the hell do I get there?


Update: I lost my marbles. Of all the metaphors I could have chosen... Seriously, how did I not notice that?