Sodas and Ciders

My dreams are just so absurdly vivid, which I'm actually very thankful for. One of my friends is baffled by my ability to remember nearly every detail like it were real life. In the dream my mom and I argued about Killer Whales and how the trainers feed them. We were driving down PCH and I could see into the water. It was so clear, like liquefied crystal. Incidentally, as we argued about this, killer whales were swimming on the shoreline so I was just gazing at them while assuring my mom that the trainers didn't force-feed them. Suddenly, in a flash, I was walking in some small part of town sans my mom and this man ( I kid you not) who works at the Quiznos by my house was selling pretzels, cake mix, and frosting. We had a conversation and I eventually convinced him that he needed to drink a bottle of water. Those were the most vivid parts. Except, there was a man, or a boy, with a noticeable mustache who was present during the whole Quiznos banter. He was sitting in a cafe style chair listening to what I was telling the man. Anyways, this all got me thinking about something I heard while listening to NPR a while back. Someone said that while we dream everything is so normal, and it isn't until we wake up that we realize something strange. Beauty.
When I walked into the kitchen to make my coffee "before they drown us in sodas and ciders" popped into my head. I thought it was part of an Andrew Bird song, because I had been listening to "Noble Beast" on the way to the airport last night, but I typed it in, and it's not. It's another tid bit from my dream. Now I have to do something useful with that phrase, probably put it in a poem or throw it at my brother for him to use in a song. Either way,that's pretty magical I'd say. Words and phrases coming to me in sleep, only for me to remember them when I awaken to reality.
 Something that has been intriguing me is the roses that my mom bought me a week ago for my theatre performance are flourishing still. I'm not sure how long they usually last, but...they're beautiful, sitting there in the kitchen window completely open. I want to be like a rose. Open to the light that streams in, and beautiful to even the most scrutinizing of eyes.
"Tenuous at best was all he had to say 
when pressed about the rest of it, the world that is 
from proto-Sanskrit Minoans to Porto-centric Lisboans 
Greek Cypriots and and harbor-sorts who hang around in quotes a lot "