Nocturne

It is a little past 3:30 a.m.---- the quietest time in Chicago (on weekdays, anyway)----- and I'm just waking up without alarm and without alarm clock to the sound of the first drops of rain, some rolling thunder still in the distance, and the first birdsong of the day. I know I was dreaming when I awoke, but it is fading fast.

Two days ago I had the most vivid, the most intense dream in seven years, and it took me all of the next day to fully awake from it. It felt like a full-length feature film, and seemed to be at least 3 hours long. The most unusual aspect for me was that I couldn't fully wake up from it. It colored the whole next day.I felt outrage at every mind- controlling attempt by anyone using any media, a feeling of despair and concession, and an enormous sadness with every girl I saw approaching me on the sidewalk only to pass me by and continue on out of my life. A tender soreness for love not completely forgotten, wounds not completely healed. A feeling of being defeated by the world in the last seconds of the seventh game in the best- of-seven challenge by the "Dream Team."

So this morning's stillness even with the approaching weather, is calming.
Peace, be still.