In my dream, my dad woke me up three times, each time I felt as if I had overslept later than the time before. As it turns out, I was still asleep in my dream saw I was just dreaming, and let that false Alarm keep happening. The dream was about milk. First milk I split. Then milk that soured. Than a big glass of spilled and soured milk being shoved at me accusingly. Inside of my dream, I experienced waking up three times before I actually woke up. Or at least, I think I woke up because of all of the constants, flatness, process and logistics that built what has been the world through my eyes for the past 20 hours. Just as likely, while I am asleep I am in an unconscious state of freedom: outside this body and this tense and that tense, these dividing lines and classifications for solutions that taper-cut rose stems as bud attempts bloom. Imagination makes action happen. The spark on consciousness in sleep is as instantaneous and miraculous as magic. Magic is making action. Consequences are the reaction of actions on a temporal carsoul of tenses. In our waking lives, the waves of our actions spread beyond ourselves, and this is why sages state that the wise acknowledge control over nothing save the duration over ones internal emotion reaction to anothers’ action. The ceaseless gest of reacting is why life feels like work. And this is why law retroactively attempts to pin-point degree of intention against the injured parties from the original action. But, reprieve comes nightly in sleep. In dreams, where we are is the present tense and we attend to where we are fully as if the world was encapsulated in the moment itself. We are uninhibited actions in sleep. We are endless possibilities as far as the mind’s eye wanders.