This morning I was visited by a nightmare.

One of those recurring ones that lingers.

But the only energy I have for nightmares now is love.

Nightmares want you to believe in them.

To get caught in their horror, terror, importance.

To resonate with them in agreement.

Love says, “Oh hi, you again! You cute lil hungry gremlin.”

Nightmares are never satisfied — gluttons for sadness, fear, drama.

And most of the world has become a nightmare factory.

One after the other flashing across your screen,

etching their terrible importance,

demanding for you to feel.

“Feel goddamnit! Be afraid!”

But I’m old now.