When I'm crossing to the Halfworld, sleep is near.
Last night's dream comes back.
Relief from my hopeless helpless waiting to sleep.
Tonight, I don't even care if I have a nightmare. My heart's racing; most likely, and I feel sick to my stomach.
I wish it was tomorrow, so I could try again.
The dream makes no conscious sense, but it's alluring. My dreams are powerful. Scary-powerful, beautiful-powerful, order-is-restored-powerful. I have the nightmares of a child.
I hate falling asleep and I like waking up. Even back when I was in the jaws of depression, swimming to the warm surface of morning light after waking from a dream would be beautiful.