Waking up to write because it has always been the most effective kind of therapy. Though sometimes I run out of content for “therapy” and stare at a screen for a while. Life does not always provide good story fodder for blogs not written about anything in particular other than one person’s personal thoughts and experiences.
Watching surprisingly less TV than I did at my last home but still taking time to put on some good things when I can. Keeping up with new episodes of The Boys because I guess superhero tales have to be R-rated for me to get into it. Go figure. Watched another of those netflix docs that was decent called The Social Dilemma (2020). Been occasionally catching up on old episodes of X-files and Star Trek TNG because nostalgia is comforting and great for background noise. Recently I played a favorite TNG episode “Night Terrors”. Probably one of the creepier of all of the episodes which is why I liked it so much when it first aired.
Had an intense yet vague dream the night before last, and even though the details have mostly faded I have not really been able to stop thinking about it. Dreams are normally strange by nature but this one stuck out for some reason. I was looking at the ground at a man lying on his back. He looked like no one I currently know, but in the dream I must have known who he was because my heart was breaking for him. He was not dead but something was clearly wrong; he was injured or perhaps dying. There was chaos and activity around us as well as people yelling; perhaps some sort of conflict. I got down on my knees by his side, tears flowing down my cheeks, and kissed him. He kissed me back gently. It felt like the last time.
I woke up with tears still in my lashes and drying on my face. It’s so odd, I’m not even sure it was me in the dream crying for the man but maybe another woman entirely. Perhaps wires were crossed and I had another woman’s nightmare about her love. Or maybe I’m in denial about still craving romance in life, even if it sometimes has to end tragically. Or maybe it meant nothing at all. The subconscious is a far greater mystery writer than the waking brain ever could be – Besides as mentioned, dreams are strange by nature.
The morning is slipping by quickly as they tend to do. Going to finish this mug of coffee and find something to busy myself with, hopefully away from a screen. Been struggling a bit with “I can’t go outside because of air quality but if I stare at one more screen for one more minute I’m going to snap.” At least we are still in a safe location at the moment. I suppose until the fires are further contained, temporarily mild insanity will have to be the price for healthier lungs down the line. I miss sitting on my porch and sipping coffee in the morning sunlight though. As eerily beautiful as those dark pink and deep red suns have been, I think I’ve seen enough of them for the year. Of course, they’ll be back next year and in higher numbers across more states. The new norm, huh? It’s a good thing that I’m good at “new normals”.