Do not disturb, tiny grass is dreaming

One time I saw this sign that said "Do not disturb, tiny grass is dreaming." This is translation, I knew exactly what they meant and I didn't even have to read it again in the language I didn't understand.   People said, "When you get old, things will be sooo hard," and I thought they meant like I'd lose my spouse to falling off a cliff or I'd have all of my appliances break at the exact same time once a month for three years or that I'd have those piles of bills like in infomercials for desk organizers. I didn't know they meant that if I knew about tiny grass dreaming, that it could temporarily defer the marching band that plays sooo loud in my head when I don't have it doused with booze, the feelings and dreams of ineptitude, of clutching anonymous feet because I'm on a sort of deck over a sort of auditorium, and all I know is fear of letting go of these mysterious ankles; all I know is the fear of being sucked down there, into the gymnasium's pit, pulled by that sideways and downwards gravity, the kind of scientific rationale they use in sci fi and scary movies. This dream, they say, is the fear of success.