Dreams

Ever have those nights where you have really strange dreams? For me, its every night. I am a very vivid dreamer, and, for better or worse, I can usually remember most of them. I remember some dreams I had years ago. The oldest dream I can remember was one I had when I was a small child. I was sitting on a high wall, fishing with my Grandfather, and there were alligators in the water below us. And, of course, I fell. It was one of those falling, but never landing dreams. I had it more than once. I also dreamt, as a child, of a McDonalds, built entirely out of chocolate chip cookies. We rarely got McDonalds, but apparently, I liked it. Four years ago, I had this dream about me living on a piece of property that had a cave where people who had died could come out, and stay for a time. The length of time they could stay depended on how long they had been dead. I am writing a book about this dream, because it intrigued me. Its a slow process, trying to write a book. I want to do it right. No one else may ever read my strange story, but still. . . So far the people I have let out of the cave are a group of knights from the 12th century, Rasputin, Ghengis Khan (he doesn't last long) the dead Beach Boys (they want to find Brian Wilson), and Jim Morrison. Those are the people that were actually in my dream. What I am trying to hash out now is how to keep the bad people, i.e Hitler, Mussolini and those of that ilk, in the cave. Who gets to deside who is bad, and who isn't? After all, Rasputin got out, and some people consider him the face of evil. . .
Anyhow, compared to that dream, the dream I remember from last night was simple. It involved my Dad, one of his brothers, who is now deceased, and his brother having a daughter I never knew he had. . . strange. I haven't ever dreamt of Uncle Bill. Wonder if he was trying to tell me something?