Mercy! Mercy! That Dang Nabed PERCY!

Pleasant Dreams

Pleasant Dreams

My grandfather was a minister. He was from Scotland and spoke in a Scottish brogue. His favorite saying, my Dad told me, (It referred to breaking wind) was, “Better vented to the wide world that shut up in a tight ass.”

I am not sure just why this would be a Minister’s favorite saying but my Dad assured me it was. Now I know this might sound like a reach but maybe God uses some of us to help him give vent to some of the awful things that go on in this world. Here is my take…

I might have told my reader‘s earlier that I have terrible dreams…nightmares is an understatement and the things that plague me as I sleep are things I have never done….indeed most often things I have never even thought about doing….except in my wildest dreams. Get it? “Wildest Dreams.” Now if God is using my sleeping mind as a sewer to release some of the bad recollections he is forced to forgive, then I can only say I am honored. As a matter of fact when I awaken from a particularly bad episode I take a deep breath and remark….I hope you’re feeling better God because I feel lower than whale poop and everybody knows that stuff is way down at the bottom of the ocean.

Freud would have a field day with my dreams and I can see him trembling as I relate them, nervously scribbling in his pad. I can hear him say….“Percy my boy…. You’re filled with dark psychosis indeed and the best place for you is an asylum or under the jail. Tell me my lad, is there a history of mental illness or criminal behavior in your family? “ And I answer….“Where do you want me to start?”

I'm very selective about who I talk to here at writing.com. I try and avoid young girls or boys under the age of forty (40) and seek out only those who are rock solid certifiably well adjusted and at peace with themselves and the world. Even to these I am very careful with what I share.

How does the song go….If you could see my dreams…. Oh what a story I could tell…. Forget the home made movies or the face from a wishing well. Grim… that’s what my dreams are… Dark, malevolent and scary as hell. For some Halloween comes once a year…. For me it happens darn near every night. I'm tempted sometimes to write them down and enter them in one of these Horror Contests but it is only a fleeting thought. I don’t want my readers to have one of those incontinent senior moments.

In Vietnam I had a religious experience. At length I quit making deals with Mr. Big (you know trying to establish a quid pro quo) and told her without quibble that I was his man. In that moment I felt an honest to God warm glow and I knew I was onto something. I expected her to tell me to go to Bombay India and live with the untouchables or at the very least to don the cloth….that really got a chuckle out of him….Get Real! the voice seemed to say, No way Hose‘ So I went on with my life waiting for a sign…. Then came a slowly dawning realization that my mission was to be a good fellow, an unpretentious and decent sort ot guy, and walk around talking to people and trying to bring out the best in those around me. Sometimes I liken it to "Talking to the Trees" which is a challenge only exceeded by talking to the rocks. There were never any fireworks to my "Born Again" experience just a sense an omnipotent presense was somewhere close around and looking out for me.

So you see I have nothing to really complain about. Every night I don my C-pap mask and my wife waves nighty-night with her little fingers. As I sink into my slumbers a voice whispers….”Pleasant Dreams.”