Why do we dream what we dream? Does
it really mean anything?
Everything?
I sometimes find myself waking up on
some of the weirdest dreams. Things that are not only unlikely to happen but
also not what I would wish to happen in what I often refer to as “real life”.
It’s a mystery, this whole “subconscious”
thing, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to understand my conscious self, let
alone my dreams.
I used to write them down, every
single detail the very moment I opened my eyes, because later you just forget
them, they vanish taking with them their hidden meaning, because they have got
to mean something.
Until one day when I was around
thirteen I wrote in red ink one particularly odd dream in a little notebook I
kept at my nightstand; and someone read it. Like, why? Talk about privacy and
trust… Anyway, I lost the habit for a while; I am currently working on gaining
it back.
Very few things can be as
heartbreaking as waking up to a dream you believed for the longest seconds to
be your reality, shutting your eyes and hoping to go back, or bring it to this
version of your life; but I’ve never made it. I just lay there, wondering about
all the possibilities of what could have been but it’s not. “Pursue your dream”
many will tell you, but what they don’t include in that empowering order is the
fact that sometimes it’s not totally up to you.
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