Daytripper...

I'd rather write about my daydreams. It's easier, less involved and lazy work. After a night of mindful dreaming I simply lack the intiative to further the study by journaling my nighttime recollections. This has to stop. It is where my procrastinatino has burrowed down to hide for its long winter. While the rest of my life is in a new spring of life, learning, and expansion, my little dream world has gone into hibernation. I awake with dusty visions of fuzzy heads and an even fuzzier world in which these heads bop around, have lives and loves, et al...

I suspect it is the people -- i.e. male romantic "leads" -- in my dreams that I do not choose to remember so clearly and the resulting action is reduced to blurs and crossfades in my conscious mind.

Self-judgement is most likely the culprit. So I make mistakes, gross errors and epic fails! "Congratulations on being fully-embodily human!" I should write a song about it -- my humaness - human mess.

More on that later. Maybe the song will free my memory.

-- With heavy lids,
Phantasus