Dream a little Dream.

It is astonishing how dreams linger on, way into the conscious world.  You wake up and it haunts you. Brush teeth, drink coffee, work, tv, computer, games, gym, whatever... but behind it all is that dream you had.  You can't shake it out.  Like an annoying gnat.  Just enough to unbalance you a bit in the everyday life.  A moment cringe during a routine conversation.  A quick tingle while in the shower.  A sudden spasm while driving.  And there it is.  That dream you had.

There are dreams that you do forget at a blink of an eye.  When you seem to hold on to a very thin string and suddenly... boom... all lost.  That heavy dream.  So exciting.  So terrifying.  Made you happy and sad.  And then you drop the string.  Where did it go?  You try in vain.  Lost.  Frustrating.

But this one I did not forget.  How could I? I woke up and stared at the wall and every element was there.  Not only had I the string, but the whole ball of string.  That's the one.  That will keep you awake.  How to explain this emotion.  You can explain the dream... but not the emotion.  That bit of personal life that only you and your unconscious know so well.

An so was this dream.  Can't shake it out.  Hence will blog it out.

Background: A good friend of mine died of Leukemia over a year ago.  Horrible.  I was in Houston.  He in New York.  We had spoken in the phone several times.  I bought airline tickets to see him.  But he dies before my flight.  I get there after.  The eulogies had been made.  His ashes were scattered in the Hudson.  I missed everything.  Had to mourn my friend in my own way.  We were good friends.  We were planning... or at least we thought the idea would be cool... to have a manhattan cable program called "Two Guys on a Sofa".  We would say whatever we wanted and polish out a bottle of scotch.  A bottle for each show.  Seemed like a good show.   But now there is only one guy... and the sofa seems so large.

So back to the dream.  My friend, who has been dead for a while now, calls me up.  I see his number in the cell.  Think its his wife.  Nope its him.  "Hey K.".  I answer: "D.?" "But you died!  How is that you are calling me?".  "No.  Not dead.  They were wrong.  Just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they are not out to get you!  I am still alive and well.  Come on over and lets have a drink". So I meet him.  We have a great time.  Then he changes the tone.  "I'm sorry.  After all, I am actually dead.  But its been fun".

And then I wake up....   Can't shake it off, man, can't shake it off.