I woke up this morning at 5:40am.
This is decidedly odd for me as anyone who knows me can attest.
I was having a dream about being in a movie theater-like aquarium with a man whom I don't know, and a couple of Asian kids, who I also don't know. I'll save you the horrible details of the rest of the dream and segue into this...
Why do dreams turn bad? I was having a happy almost gleeful dream about a most wonderful aquarium experience then I started to get the feeling that we were in a maze and were going to become the brain-powered generators of vastly unfathomable computer power.
I know, I know. It's sorta' Matrix-like, but I couldn't help it. I was dreaming. Then I was beginning to nightmare (is that a phrase). But why?
I woke up before the dream got really crazy and felt like I was a kind of Stephen King or something. I had unleashed a mental power of deviousness previously unknown to me. And I began to welcome the darkness of my room, the silence of the early morning hour and the morose thought of a room of headstones in the lowest floor of a movie theater-like aquarium; all the way down to the blind ushers.
Why do things happen this way? Couldn't I have had a happy dream and woken up in a different state of mind? Why? Why? Why?
But perhaps I woke up to save myself the anguish, horror and mental distaste of unnecessary trauma. Yeah. I'm sticking with that. I woke up to save myself, that man I don't know and the two Asian kids that I also don't know. Go me! A bloody hero of the mind...