I’ve been saying that for years, with the same caveat
that all of us use, “and I’ve never worked harder.”
That’s a crock.
We’ve slowed down, so there’s less time available for us to do
things. We have way less energy,
physical and mental, to do things anyway.
So, the old, in general, accomplish a lot less than they used to -- but
memories are a great asset for the old, we used to work double the effort, and
twice as long to achieve today’s similar goals.
Morpheus is the God of the old, for sure. I could happily spend half my life in my
dreamland of today. I no longer dream
about losing my school combination locker code; or flying around the world; or
even flying when I knew how, but didn’t have a license; no more walking down a
public street naked. These days, most of
my encounters are with my parents, generally current day scenarios, but with
them, or just my mother, having miraculously aged to a cogent 108, we discuss
current scenarios, not so much older ones, although older decision points do
come
into play from time to time.
I have a huge back history of dreamland houses that I
have owned, rented, managed, usually close to real abodes, maybe the places I
missed, didn’t rent, or acquire. Several
of these are still clear in my mind, room by room, and or garden plot by garden
plot, with faults, for which I had fixes, including gardening fixes. These recurred in dreams for decades, easy to
bring up, but not there normally.
Did I tie these places to people? No, not real
people. At least not my parents. Maybe some real people, or, again, possibly some
real people with whom I never wound up having a relationship.
I dream a lot.
I dream in color [if necessary].
Trying a new way to communicate
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