Night and Day

Swollen with laughter I occupy my days. Never have I thought that being around the constant stimulation of human beings could bring so much energy to my soul, without wearing it out completely. But the favorite shirt that is worn until its final thread snaps may be said to have been a happier shirt than the one that was only shabby because it had been used as a garbage disposal rag one too many times. This is a new experience, satisfied exhaustion. My creative insides are oozing everywhere, for there are many on the Pinewoods crew sharing my interests and reasoning tactics, or at least who are willing to let me tell stories when the need arises, and not squirm with my awkwardness of telling. And still there is plenty of time to read and write, though with the opportunity of speakspeakspeaking so prevalent, writing isn’t as much of a necessity than a joy.
But what I am most of all fascinated by currently is that I have been having nightmares almost every night since I arrived. Some of them are really scary. Many of them are perfectly normal dreams, with an extraneous flash of terror not pertaining to the rest of the dream. In one, I had a sudden image of myself walking into the basement of my mother’s house, with a man dressed in black clothes running fast towards me and then leaping into me as I woke up. In another, My brother and a friend of his had my dog and a miscellaneous Dalmatian stowed away in an attic, and I snuck in to take Nina back, but there were so many doors, and we were almost out when the final door closed. Bennett had locked me in. All of the dreams are disturbing in different sorts of ways, and I wake up really disoriented. There is a similar darkness in each of them. I have a couple of theories about the origins:
It could be that I have been feeling so vigorously satisfied all day everyday, almost to the point of leaving the ground with joy (I really can’t contain my laughter), that my mind needs some place to expel the "negative" emotions, so it takes advantage of the night to do so. It’s true that there are things that disturb me in the world, personal and otherwise, but right now there is too much immediate wonderfulness to bother with them Idiotically or Egotistically, only Superegotistically (I don’t think one can use those Freudian words that way, but I did anyway).
Or, it could be that I am deep down fearful of the END of the happy time. To be so high has an equal and opposite low. I can’t help but wonder when it will come and what I will do when it does, so I dream of terrible things.
Or, my cabin could be infested with dark spirits, but I don’t think it is. Only lightbulb-infatuated insects.
So, I’m not really concerned about the nightmares. They are entertaining, as all dreams are, like watching a scary movie. There are sometimes when I don’t even want to wake up because my dreams are so interesting. Which makes me think, that the opposite scenario of what I am dealing with is probably much worse: to have a life that I dislike so much that I go to sleep to find better. I’m sure there are people in that state all over the world. Sometimes I am in it in the wintertime. But, I shall consider myself EXTREMELY fortunate; for the mold is only in my head, not in my bread.