You never realize just how imaginative you actually are until you you have nightmares. How the hell does the brain THINK of these things?! I guess it just takes all the worst fears in your heart, then crafts them into a ball of hideous evil before casting it deep into your defenseless head while you sleep. My imagination can be a total asshole.

Sometimes I look at The Book and think to myself, “I don’t have the skill to do this”. It’s all jumbled up in a mess of pages, with random thoughts jotted down in many random documents, and I need to find a way to craft it all into a ball of gripping entertainment that I can cast deep into your interested head while you read. I can’t do that.

And then I have a horrendous nightmare where a very scary man is searching for me in my house, and breaking my dog’s legs one-by-one until I come out of hiding that I think, “my god, my imagination is… capable. Maybe I can do this”. 

Ugh. Thankfully I have The Cheerleader I Live With to curl up into a ball against while I whimper myself awake. And thankfully I have all my other Cheerleaders who don’t let me curl up into a ball and procrastinate myself to failure.

Anyway, I’m grateful when I wake up and see my dog in one piece, and I’m also grateful when I ‘wake up’ and see my ability still very much intact.

Weird how a nightmare can spur on a dream, isn’t it?  I blame the dog.

…Good girl, Luna.  xo

 

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