Saturday, November 15, 2008

Dream a Little Dream

I wish I could have more lucid dreams. Thankfully, I remember my dreams nearly all the time, in full detail...
I used to dream that I had this son. He was beautiful. More importantly, he was great. I birthed greatness. Yes, All mothers feel like this, but mines was different. I did not know my child. I did not know I respected him. I recognized that he had a purpose and that it was my job to nurture that purpose and provide the catalyst for his flourishing. I never know that I'm dreaming when I see my son. The motherly pride with which I view him in my arms is more real than the chemical reactions I am currently working on. Cold sweat. I wake up from this dream, every time, with a cold sweat. It excites me; it terrifies me. I want to indagate its reason for recurring but hesitant as to what I might find...

I am firm believer that dreams are not meaningless fluff. Everything has a purpose. Why would God bless us with such an ability to escape reality as we sleep. Though for some, nightmares plague them, they usually all have a meaning behind them. I am thinking of delving into dream analysis heavily. What if certain dreams could be chemically forced- a sort of natural virtual reality?

"At times I yearn to reach that star as it dangles tauntingly over my head. Then sometimes, I say F It..."

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