“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” – Edgar Allan Poe
For the first time in about 20 years, I am sleeping beside pen and paper. My subconsciousness or whatever it’s called remembers the pen and paper are there and when I awake in the morning and before I open my eyes, I’m scribbling words about my dreams.
I don’t write every morning. Sometimes I’m writing paragraphs. Sometimes I’m writing a few words. I haven’t journaled enough dreams to discern a pattern. Last night I dreamed of a girl who turned into a dog. Last week I dreamed I was part of a group looking for a terrorist. A few nights ago I dreamed of harmonious surplus soap.
That soap dream sequence was very lucid. My subconscious mind repeated those three words over and over, forcing me to awake and write the words before I forgot them.
Harmonious. Surplus. Soap.
There was neither plot nor subtext. Just three words. Those words were the dream.
I turned to Merriam-Webster.
: in music, having a pleasing mixture or combination of notes
: having parts that are related or combined in a pleasing way
: not experiencing disagreement or fighting
: an amount (such as an amount of money) that is more than the amount that is needed
: a substance that is used for washing something
I don’t know what it means. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is I’m writing what I remember and hoping over time it makes a difference.