Back in the day, I had this huge double bed (practically a queen size bed) with an electric blanket all for myself.
It was the best bed I had ever slept in in my life.
On that bed I witnessed the generation of streams of the most vivid, plentiful and beautiful dreams I ever had. I know that I can't remember most of my dreams, but I remember well those which shocked or amazed me. And some of those dreams that I had in that bed were good, or just plain weird that I remember them well.
Now I have a single bed.
I think its length is just a bit longer than my height, so my feet tend to stick out sometimes.
But I'm not sure if I'll have that same explosion of dreams again while I live here.
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I just haven't been paying attention to the dreams that I've had, and forgotten most or maybe all of them. Maybe I haven't been sleeping right, or maybe not my required hours.
I'd like to have a really good dream one day of these.
Dammit, I feel like I'm getting sick.
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