I woke up this morning with the most surreal dream. It is strange how dreams work. I have noticed that when I am living on a happy curve, I dream of things going wrong, of things I fear, things I don't like. And when I am in a down phase on the life graph, I dream of the most beautiful, heart-warming people, places and moments that almost give me a reason to keep living. Now the question is - which is better? I mean I know I will have to live through both ups and downs in reality and dreams, but what if I had a choice?
I don't know how or when I used to think like this, but I remember wondering which is real - the time that I am awake in this world that we know, or the dream world that I live in for eight to ten hours everyday? Maybe that world is the "real" one, and not this that we think of as "real". What is real anyways? We experience both these worlds on a daily basis. Why do we dismiss the dream world as being "unreal"? Those who forget their dreams when they wake up still dream - they just can't recall what they experienced in that other world. Are dreams "unreal" only because they are intangible? What becomes of god then? What if someone decides to dismiss this "real" world and live more in the dream world?
Our day lives are like a never-ending soap opera, and dreams more like short stories. Day life is dependent on luck/fate/god/other people, whereas dreams are completely our own creation. Day life is mostly shallow, dreams are deep and meaningful. Dreams come to us at night - the time of the day that is most personal and intimate. Day life could be lived in a crowded place with people you dislike, and you have very little choice about it.
It must be clear by now what my dream was like this morning - the kind that makes you never want to leave that fascinating, star studded world.
Maybe I could alternate between the two worlds. Maybe thats what I've been doing for so long. But the thin line between the two worlds is hard to balance on without falling over.
So here's to many many more sweet snowy heavenly dreams - but that would mean a lousy life - eh, what the hell...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
dreams are made of...
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I've gotten really good at recalling my dreams. Recently, most have been about me going on crime sprees and running from the cops. I dunno what the fuck that means. I had a really eerie one last night, where my mom was trying to tell me she was upset, but I didn't listen, and I was distant. And then I ran home because I feared she might kill herself. It's weird how dreams work, because I just had a really good conversation with her this weekend. I dunno why the dream was so morbid.
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