SOUL MUD: Random Ramblings of my 24/7 Brain

I dream a lot.   I dream in color.   I have repetitive dreams.   I can wake up and then fall back asleep and go back to the dream as if I had just pressed pause.   I remember my dreams – at least most of them unless I am sleep walking/talking.   Those dreams escape me and my ability to recall them.     For the past couple years, I’ve been dreaming of houses.   I dream of big, expansive houses with many bedrooms.   In these dreams, the houses all belong to be, but it seems that most of them are recent acquisitions and I have lots to discover.   There are always many, many bedrooms.   However, I usually am limited to a couple bedrooms that are actually put together, decorated, and in use while others lay in wait for me to clean them, or sort through the contents.   Most of the bedrooms that need sorted through are on a second level of the building.   I find I am excited to look through what has been left in the rooms and I think about the treasures that I will find there.   Som

Is tragedy so common that I am perpetually in a state of or numb to shock?  I shrug off what does not affect me personally and slip on blinders to release my own guilt at my cavalier manner.   Yet worry and angst smolder below the surface.   I fool myself into ignoring, pushing aside and rendering not important events and circumstance that, in fact, make my core being shudder.   I know not how to cope with the things that I cannot control and therefore find a false and treacherous sense of solace in turning a blind eye to it. My age condemns me, yet the scared child in me grasps desperately to restore my innocence via ignorance.   I mourn my innocence.   Wistful as it was, blissfully remembering the long lost ability to wave off worry and concern and a now developed understanding of things to be fearful of, leave my soul aching for past naiveté.   Oh, but to be so juvenile as to see only potential, reveling in fun, excitement and hope…the next adventure, the newest th