Maybe I shouldn't post the most twisted dream I've had in recent years as the initial dream driplet.

I'll save it for later...Codeword Commodity, we'll call it.

For now, a beautiful one from Monday:
I was walking through some dusty ranchlike place
with a soft-eyed, lanky man who was a dear friend of
mine. We approached a log-fence when my pal exclaimed
"Stubble! Wow man, I haven't seen him in over six
years. I wondered if I was ever going to again."
Stubble was a darker-haired man with a slightly bigger
build than my friend, but a similar haircut and gait.
He walked smiling toward us and I noticed a sort of
far-away look in his eyes, something otherworldly
about him. Right before Stubble was in earshot, my
friend tells me that Stubble is a visionary, he can
see things...

Stubble spoke soft and slow to us and walked with a
tiny person, looking like a toddler. My vantage point
began to shift between what we could see and what
Stubble and his li'l buddy could see. There came a
point when I didn't know whose image was whose, and
even lost track of whether I was me or the
toddler-person, but the images were shifting between a
warm sepia tone and a black and white with ecstatic
color forms hovering through and around us and them.

The toddler had an aberration of a golden sceptre
of some sort (looked partially like the symbol for
woman) resting through its head comfortably while it
continued to watch us interact, holding onto Stubbles
hand. On the toddlers chest were green folds of a
lotus blossom, again aberration, and in the center of
his stomach was a bright lavender circle with a violet
ring around its trim.

It became apparent to me that Stubble was my friend
childhood imaginary friend, visiting him today in
tangible form so I could know of him too. Stubbles
had the aberration of many bright blue semi-circles
seeping from and framing his crown. There was
another form, of an open vault lit in red that
extended from a narrower point near his throat to its
widest area over his chest and heart, where the
brightness bled to pink which dripped through and
beyond his fingers.

Stubble said something about always hoping to see
his old friend (possibly the toddler?) but having to
wait until he died to do so. My light-eyed friend's
face went into shock as his mouth dropped open in
sadness. "You've died? Oh no, No wonder I never get
to see much of you." Stubble comforted him somehow
for a moment than started speaking so slow and
stopping for long periods of time between thoughts and
breaths, his language pattern shifted too and his eyes
grew vacant.

My previously calm and centered friend, perhaps
feeling anxiety for the possibility of seeing his
friend for the last time, got agitated with this
speech incoherence and had a li'l snit/tantrum saying
to Stubble "Is this what your always reduced to?
Can't you ever finish a thought and stay with me for a
complete conversation without drifting into oblivion?"
Stubble seemed incognizant of any tension, his face
remained soft and warm-expressioned though his eyes
grew big and dark.

At this point in the dream, my friend and the
toddler fell into the background as I stepped toward
Stubble, who seemed to be morphing. I pet the dark
hair on his head as it grew longer and longer, along
with his entire body. He became this stallion, still
with a sort of glazed over look in his eyes. As a
horse though, he was taken over by a deep giddiness,
recalcitrant to even his own will for anything but
this blissful game of chasing surrender. On this
dusty plain, with me sometimes running with him, other
times stepping back a little concerned that he would
accidentally step on me in pursuit of this ambiguous
fleeting thing he was fixed upon, this horse lept over
fences 14 feet high with the twist of a high-jumper
and the landing of a cat or ballet dancer--soft with
the smallest cloud of dust pluming at his hooves.
I grew more confident that I was welcome to engage
in this ecstatic hunt/dance without fear of being
trampled. Soon the stallion and I were weaving in an
out of eachother's course, making unintentional
designs in the dust of sacred geometrical proportion.
Soon I lost track of the horse and became this game
for myself. As this prancing around went on, I was
tireless and saw a six foot log fence up a ways. I
had a moment of fleeting fear that I wouldn't clear
it, but as the rush of blood swept during my sprint
toward it and my focus shifted to this warm spot
(another aberration in a rose color) above and beyond
the fence, I just went for it.

I'd lept into the the little warm cloud right before I woke up.

I'm so glad I get to dream.

Y'ever recall yours?

Do share.