Dream Journals Eighty-six and Eighty-seven. (Epilogue.)

Last night is difficult to remember.

            I  awokeclutching myself again,

my clenched fists at my

Sternumand my elbowsbent

inward.  The dream was

emotionally trying

            again.I had not

            fulfilled something

            important from the

            prior night.

 

                        Dm.A.A.

 

The dream was peculiar.I am not
even certain that I fell asleep. My
mind was a muddled stew whose
meat and potatoes were the
remembered images of the
episodes of the Legend of
Korra.A cynicism pervaded
it. For every moment of
glorious appreciation
that,in Waking Life,
my sister and I welcomed
these images with,the
Dreamer found
ruthless fault with those
same images. dm.A.A.