Another Dream That I Had

If you’re reading this, and you are, you should follow the account @fivebooksinme on Instagram.

Writers and readers will post selfies, there, of themselves (naturally) with five books that are important to them.

It’s going to be really good.

——

I have a lot of dreams.

Last night I dreamed I was scratching the walls with my fingernails. I knew that if I scratched one tiny part of the wall, then another, and another, and I did that 16,000 times, I would get a check in the mail for $60,000.

And so I did that. I went to work scratching the walls. I spend the whole night scratching tiny bits of the walls and certain objects that also counted.

Whenever I scratched a new spot, I heard a sound that indicated I had been successful, I had not gone over a spot I’d already scratched. I was making progress.

I did this so persistently that my fingertips started bleeding.

In the morning, still in the dream, I got a notification, that the total number of scratches had not been 16,000 but 13,000. I had not done enough to earn the $60,000. But for my efforts I would get a check for $600.

I felt so vindicated. I was triumphant. I was going to buy a Nintendo Switch.

——

The other day, I wrote a different Bloggie post about a dream I’d had the night before.

In the dream, poems were written on objects in my house. But the objects were also the poems.

When I wrote the blog post, I couldn’t remember what the object was that I was holding in the dream, which had a poem on it. Or in it.

I said it was a tape measure, I think, or something else, because by the time I wrote the blog post I couldn’t remember exactly what the object in my dream had been.

But before I wrote that post, I said on Twitter what the object really was. It was a walkie-talkie.

And that’s a much more interesting object to also be a poem, because a walkie-talkie is an object you use to communicate. Like a poem is, though a poem isn’t really an object, except that it was in my dream.

I feel there must be some kind of significance to this. I don’t know what it could be.