Do shellfish dream of electric seaweed?

Last night I dreamt that I checked my blog, and all the posts I thought about but never wrote were somehow published on it. The ins and outs of life, the occassional realizations, the struggles, the successes and the musings which are all too deeply archived to ever really access again were all there for me to see, in story book format (my medium of deepest recognition.) The dream presented itself in amazing detail, it was like mining all those fleeting thoughts that you regretfully forget when pen meets paper (when pads press keys) and the best part (I dreamt) was the realization that NOW I HAVE THEM BACK. I became excited by the possibilities; I could be my own therapist and know why I am where I am. I could read these thoughts to recall my journey as it felt inside the most honest part of me, rather than my blogging voice or the feedback of those around me. There was so much tingling potential.

Then I woke up of course.