Memoir of a Dream

I’ve always thought it was really weird because I’ve always had the most vivid dreams, so vivid in fact until I wake up I genuinely think they’re real and happening. Now maybe that isn’t too odd, everyone has a cool dream and it’s hard to decipher dream from reality unless one is trained in the art of lucid dreaming, but… when I ask around I know very few people who actually remember their dreams when the awake in the morning, whereas I always know just enough to give a detailed description of what adventure I came across the night previous. Are my dreams so eccentrically amazing that my brain just records them for me to remember for all eternity rather than leave room for my calculus equations or is there something more underneath?a57bdd828e33468ac94d2c5d5b1ac5de.jpg

Before I sleep I always like to drive myself to think of a specific thought, my girlfriend, my cat, my best friend, my dinner, something good, something that will give me peace because the nicer the thought the nicer the dream, or is it that simple? Last night before I went to bed I thought about how cute would it be to have a dinosaur living on my lawn, like a small person sized dinosaur that was my pet, chewing up my lawn living there for no reason while I drink lemonade on the porch and sunbathe. But… when I went to sleep I had a very interesting dream about zombies and pink cakes and disneyland and also getting poles and trying to drive them through people’s heads. As a very squeamish and easily frightened person, and anxiety attack woke me up from that dream, but it got me thinking, how did i get from dinosaurs to zombies.

One may say… Dreams are just… dreams… they don’t mean anything. They’re just your mind wandering off into the abyss, creating images while you sleep, they don’t mean anything. Others say a dream is the key to your subconscious, what you truly want in life appears in your dreams. Well, I’m not entirely sure I want to live through a zombie apocalypse at disneyland, trying to get Mickey Mouse to not eat me was a pretty traumatic experience if I do say so myself.

Let’s get back to me. What do I think dreams are. I always thought… dreams are memories. Memories of another time… another existence. I’ve had dreams where I’m not me at all, where I exist as a totally different person that looks different than I, sounds different, different gender, different age, just… not me, but me. Not me as I am now, in this body, in this lifetime, but my soul, thinking, remembering other times, different times. I like to think my soul is exploring the possibilities of what I am, how I am, perhaps compare myself to my past lives and think, how can I better myself in this life to be as great as I was in that lifetime.

The universe is so huge and vast, who’s to say I can’t have lived a hundred different lives, a million different lives already, that perhaps these adventures I lived happened in galaxies far far away, not yet in reach of earth, but my soul is just traveling distances to create all the essences of me. When I close my eyes and I transporting myself to a new dimension, one where I can be another me, one where, for a split moment, I as myself, do not exist, but I as another does. It sounds very… intense, perhaps even crazy, but it’s something I’ve always explored in the back of my mind.
But really… what is a dream. Like… it’s not a tangible thing you can touch or hold, but it’s an idea, something though not real, but real. And that… the Idea I can close my eyes and take myself to another world… that’s rather… mystical. But the question is… can I get to this other world… Am I in these other worlds…. Can I be the person I am in my dreams or am I just… Me.


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