Crazy, Wild Dreams

There he is, the man of my dreams. He's tall, dark, and handsome and he's calling out to me. I reach for him and the floor begins to give way. I back away until my back is against a wall. The hole in the floor gets bigger, until I have no choice but to hold on for dear life. The edge gets harder to grip, but I don't let go. Do I fall? Do I climb back up somehow to see the man again? I don't know, I've just woken up from another crazy dream.
My dreams have always been weird, at least the ones I remember. Sometimes I dream about my thoughts or events of the day. Sometimes I don't know why I dream what I do. I suppose that some part of me is familiar with the idea.
Besides my crazy dreams, I have a very weird sleep pattern. Sometimes I can get eight hours, sometimes barely twenty minutes of sleep. I notice that depends on whats on my mind. If I have a lot or one thing that's bothering me, I can't sleep. That of course is fairly normal, in my opinion. And if I say something like oh, I bet I'll sleep good tonight or vice versa, I usually do.
Dreams and sleep patterns really rely on thoughts. I'm not saying this goes for everyone, but for me it does. I've always been a thinker, about everything. That goes for the man of/in my dreams.