To think, I didn’t even have a glass wine before going to bed, and this is what appeared while I slept. Am I the only one having crazy, wild, awesome dreams? I know I can’t be.

This dream back in December started out typical, yet ended anything but. I popped up into the unified field the same way I always do, through a circular opening above my head – a zero point entry.

All of a sudden hundreds of trap doors opened allowing thousands of people to access the expanding field with a magnificent turquoise-sky backdrop. Then, as quick as the doors opened, they closed. Sealed tight, going back down was no longer an option.

Out of nowhere, my movie dream team was back. This time the flowers weren’t the size of beanstalks, as in The Batch is Back – AKA Cumberbatch.  The flowers that had grown from the original seedlings in Benedict Cumberbatch’s Pot were now presented to me in beautiful bouquets.

As if Emma Stone and I were ghosts, we connected in this funky ethereal way. Then the spines of twelve people turned neon blue. One of which was Benedict Cumberbatch. It was like those with blue spines were magnetized. We merged together, intertwined. Mesh squares beneath us enlarged and turned gold. Alice Merton was singing No Roots and everyone was dancing. How that song plays into all of this, I haven’t a clue. Guess I should check out the lyrics. Or, maybe that was to remind me to ground what I was experiencing. Makes sense considering what came next.

Huge anchors with chain links the size of football fields dropped down. There was a rainbow bridge, crystal connectors and a door. I stepped through the door that magically opened, dropped off the edge, and shot up vertically like being shot out of a cannon.

I felt like Superman, however my excitement was short-lived by the word myopic. Despite the fact I felt like a superhero, I sensed I was being shown that I was playing small. I looked it up for clarity, as what I recalled was a vague definition at best. Sure enough, near-sighted and narrow-minded are synonyms.

When I peeled my eyelids open that morning, three high-pitched tones in my left ear sounded like a smoke-detector battery demanding to be changed. A stop light in my face turned green. The light flashed along with the number 18.

Was I being welcomed into 2018? Is that when whatever it is I’m creating at night comes to fruition? Guess I’ll have to wait and see. I do know this, my 2018 dreams have already been off the charts. More on that later…

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