bad dreams

last night i had horrible dreams. all night long i sweat and turned in fear and anxiety. at one point i dreamt that my sister was trying to kill me. then the usual dreams of screaming at my mother and trying to protect some kind of infant. i have this one allot; there is an "infant" that i am charged with protecting. but this infant is so small that it can sit comfortably in the palm of my hand. also, it talks. usually i have to keep this thing safe despite war, riots, zombies, or some other rediculous scenario. last night i had to keep it safe from my mother's recklessness.

so i kept waking up. i remember when i was younger i would have bad dreams and wake up scarred shitless and have trouble getting back to sleep. these days i wake up in a pitched rage, which i guess is indicative of what worries me subconsciously. im not affraid of mosters anymore. im affraid of losing control. of what? im affraid of the world spirialing into a chaos of nonsense that will make it impossible to care for the tiny speaking person in my hand. and when it happens my reaction is not one of fear but rather a boiling, frustrated rage with no possiblility of outlet, only of cyclical acceleration. thats got to be a metaphore for something. Is this some strange, preprogramed paternal fear that comes on a man of my age automatically? or am i seriously, deeply disturbed? i dont feel disturbed. not generaly anyway. its only after waking from dreams like this when i worry about this anger that aparently hides in my head somewhere.

anyway, like i said i kept waking up. and luckily katelyn was next to me, and the cats were generaly on the bed sleeping with us, and all of that is well and soothing to me, all of that is what i am and is stability for me. so i would wake up, maybe go to the toilet or the refrigerator to see if some chocolate had somehow materialized there. then i would clime back into the hot bed and mumble something to katelyn about bad dreams. she doesnt wake up, but somehow knows to roll over and put her small hand on my chest, which is the exact oposite of the fission that was only a few minutes ago causing my head to feel like it was reaching critical mass. and so i sleep and am happy for a few hours or minutes or whatever unit allows us to measure the time of sleep. but soon enought the bastards are at it again and im angry again and its not going to lest me rest, not this night.