A quarter to four in the morning, I woke myself up as I felt synchronized with my earthly form through a direct, deliberate action in my dream that basically handled me the remote control.

In moments of triumph, all I can feel is regret, cringing at the idea of having an ego, even just minimal enough to recognize my basic needs.

The patterns I see in my recurring dreams, as I dream them, is the ambivalence of clarity absolutely everything has.

I am a hero, though not really.

I am on an urgent mission, though seconds feel like minutes, and minutes like hours.

I have a very fast lady as a companion, and she is shrouded bythe ways she was supposed to look like.

10 wolf pearls through a wide and seemingly endless road is what I must collect... for something. Most of the time the only thing I can say to know for sure is that I have pearls, and said fast lady has their own paraphernalia to catch.

But I have this recurring character I see the face perfectly and not at all, both at the same time, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

She's my antagonist, with the closest description being a brunette Penny Carter in a ticket clerk outfit. Hell, she could be related to Margaret or Elizabeth, I wouldn't be sure. I can't never be sure.

Throughout all of these dreams, she is manipulating everything for she was the one that started my quest through these dreamscapes that look an awful lot like the game ClusterTruck, except the truck. Thought tonight I was indeed riding a huge one looking for the last orb to bring to her.

And I always come back the same way. Through completely spontaneous means, I always see myself hanging out of the side of a small bus she is driving; she disguises herself as a bus driver, and she always gets pissed off when she sees me just above her head. It always means I have won today's challenge.

And we would always have this talk, about how much she loved to be above me and knew everything I would or could do, finding new ways to her perfect prison adapt more and more to everything I do, going back on every prize and chance to leave, save the world, cure a family's illness or whatever the fuck.

In her words, she wants to do this so she doesn't have to be so active about it anymore. Probably wanting to live her facade life as a bus driver and parking valet.

The location where all this "dream-end" happens is also very important, since together with the strong feelings of knowing her from the earthly side of the world, I know for sure we always go to where I used to live, the parking lot to an English school right next to my old apartment. She would do everything through and behind an entrance desk that didn't look but did felt makeshift.

This time I was the one beyond pissed, which for me is at least ironic. I grew sick of her "end of episode" monologues and just flipped the desk and started looking for a button or anything that would allow her to create these challenges, as she would flip out and scream, trying to understand where did that attitude come from.

Almost in what felt like all fours, I got to her shoulders and pushed her back further down the parking lot. She wasn't scared, or angry anymore.

I wanted to talk about how or if she remembers me from when I was a kid, as vividly as I did back then. How much I grew attached to her ever since the first day she gave me a nickname and I asked for hers.

"I am not your damn mother!"

— No, not like that! — I said, as I was just as ready to eat her up right there and then.

I don't remember what she said exactly, but her words were of perfect, reciprocal intensity and love, as we kissed and hugged each other's heads like we were about to force our molecules into fusing together.

It was at the moment we kissed that I had this shock in the back of my head, instantly 'remembering' me that I was asleep somewhere, with the only other detail being how immediate she got me... ready for action, for lack of better term.

I kid you not it was really that fast. It being everything that happened, but one thing:

The realization. Letting go of this yet another love of my life embracing me, and staring right into its inconceivable eyes.

When I was ready to be in charge of my actions, my first choice was to wake up.

Chop-chop, got work to go and nowhere else to do.