Strange morning happenings.

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So very tired.  May have to go on back to bed... for a bit.  A nap, of sorts.  I am hoping if I hit it soon enough, it won't destroy my day... and will be brief.

That isn't the strange part.  The strange part was in contemplating the daughters in my dreams.

Oh, no.  Not a... sexual thing.  Though the beauty of daughters is a terrible, and lonely, thing... to a father.  Still, it... is a wonderful thing.  To have been a party to the creation of such lovely creatures.  Even with the hope, and terror, that she will find a love, and... repeat the process.  Whether in her creation, or her own procreation, it is always fishing with a golden hook.  Precious, too dear to dare lose, yet the risks must be taken.  As well, even if related to, in a procreative way, can't claim.  Nice.

Having, perhaps, met one of my daughters... perhaps the only daughter... I don't know, or remember, what all were...  I do have some... sense of this, in the reals.  Such pretty creatures.  But, as blood kin, so distant.  As the moon, in some ways.  Well, and the dreams, of being the nearly forever sleeping lover of the goddess of the moon, from... other dreams.

Yes, just... some thoughts and memories and dreams and... a beautiful thing.  The collection of various notions, memories, thoughts, and dreams... someone created music seemingly just for this.  And art.  I may be the only one, if it seems I am not alone?  Who knows.