Dreams, waking and sleeping

[smokingboot]

Well, that was not a good night's sleep. The dreams were troubling; first, I was being fired from someplace. 'Go write that situational comedy you've always wanted to,' said my firer, some ghastly woman from HR. What 'situational comedy?' Anyway, leaving was not as easy as all that. There was a massive queue, people sitting around, the kind of chaos you associate with... it comes to me but didn't then... with a GP's chaotically busy waiting room.

Jump to a field in darkness under bright stars. There's a corpse in that field, I know it. Jump to our silhouettes, myself alongside the body of some great antlered creature, like a moose or elk or - my dream lexicon kicks in - or a stag. My friend who just passed was part of a Live Action Role playing group called the Harts. I stand and think, and from behind myself observe me standing and thinking.

Then a close up of a really spectacular fly, with purple filigree wings, and a black emerald-sheened body, and ruby basicostas, or, as I fall further into sleep, maybe eyes. Remembering a legend of Inanna, where a fly helps the goddess find Dumuzi's body, and as a reward she blesses the fly, saying it will always be able to buzz around the taverns of men and learn/enjoy everything that's going on, that the fly would live 'like the sons of the wise.'

The sound of a man crying alone. I am asleep now I think, but I turn to R and it's not him; he is sound asleep.It doesn't feel like my passed friend either.
'Don't cry!' I call out, 'please don't cry!' I send what I hope is a vibe, a current like the wind breathing spring, green and full of seeds and flowers and freshness towards the person crying, doesn't matter who he is, trying to reassure him that he is the green man and he will revive always. He will live.

Then awake awake awake. The light's here. I am ready to get up, feed cats. What on earth is all this stuff?