I woke up on Monday, the last few weeks have been really rough. My dreams helped me to make it ,in a somewhat lucid way through my work week.
As I sat up in bed, my dreams came flooding back. I could remember them in extraordinary detail. Holes.
They were the type of dreams that when you wake up,you wish you could slip back to sleep and re-enter the world that you had just left by waking.
I dreamt that I was digging holes. Not extraordinary in circumference, but deep, deep holes. I was making voids, and it made me happy.
We had a certain amount of money reserved for our children's college fund and also for our retirement. It's gone.
I bought a backhoe today! I am very excited, I have already dug 16 holes in the front yard. My wife is screaming, my children are crying. I don't think they understand dreams.
I have tried to explain to my wife why I need to dig the holes. They are very valuable.
"But, why"!
"I can put things in there, like spare change, dead animals, stuff that was laying around"
The conversation did not end well. But the holes were exquisite!
I like the number 16, because 16 becomes 32 which becomes 64 which becomes 128.
The doctor says that I have lost touch with reality, I tell him that the reality was lost when I left my dream.
