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My dreams are so vivid, so enveloping, that I frequently wake up and believe them to be real for many moments after my eyes have opened. It's a disconcerting feeling, to suddenly have reality unfold and dissipate in the space of ten seconds.
I have dreamed of the past and woken with tears on my face. I have dreamed of things to come and believed them to be nonsensical images, until they came to pass (remind me to tell you of the time I was in high school and I dreamed of two boys in the honours English class, which I was not in, playing tennis at dusk in the parking lot of a large hotel). I've dreamt of people that I've known, never to be seen again. And of people I've yet to meet. For years, I dreamt of the same person continually. Never actually knowing them in the waking world. Then one day, I met them. And my world was forever changed.
I dream constantly of the lwa. Sometimes the dreams are meaningful and they leave me with knowledge that I desperately need or comfort for me to cling to in my darkest days. And sometimes the dreams are scattered and careless, with no real definition that I can accurately pinpoint.
Houses figure predominantly in my dreams. I frequently find myself in a large and rambling house, seemingly never-ending. There are rooms that I find myself drawn to, yet am terrified to even place my fingers upon the door. Some rooms are inhabited by regular people and some have invisible things inside of them, that I know would sink their teeth into me if I ever gave them the opportunity. There are places behind the walls of these houses that I always find myself trapped in, sometimes there are doors I can't get through because they're too small.
Some protagonists in my dreams aren't even really me, though it feels like such since it's coming from my eyes, my voice, my blood and my skull. I dream of these others' lives, their hearts. Some are broken things, while others are so full of joy that I can barely shake off their skins when I leave my bed.
Many of my dreams have formed the structure of feverishly written stories that so occupy my every waking thought that it is difficult to pull myself away for even a moment's respite. Some dreams won't leave me alone until I write them down.
( This is one of them: )
I have dreamed of the past and woken with tears on my face. I have dreamed of things to come and believed them to be nonsensical images, until they came to pass (remind me to tell you of the time I was in high school and I dreamed of two boys in the honours English class, which I was not in, playing tennis at dusk in the parking lot of a large hotel). I've dreamt of people that I've known, never to be seen again. And of people I've yet to meet. For years, I dreamt of the same person continually. Never actually knowing them in the waking world. Then one day, I met them. And my world was forever changed.
I dream constantly of the lwa. Sometimes the dreams are meaningful and they leave me with knowledge that I desperately need or comfort for me to cling to in my darkest days. And sometimes the dreams are scattered and careless, with no real definition that I can accurately pinpoint.
Houses figure predominantly in my dreams. I frequently find myself in a large and rambling house, seemingly never-ending. There are rooms that I find myself drawn to, yet am terrified to even place my fingers upon the door. Some rooms are inhabited by regular people and some have invisible things inside of them, that I know would sink their teeth into me if I ever gave them the opportunity. There are places behind the walls of these houses that I always find myself trapped in, sometimes there are doors I can't get through because they're too small.
Some protagonists in my dreams aren't even really me, though it feels like such since it's coming from my eyes, my voice, my blood and my skull. I dream of these others' lives, their hearts. Some are broken things, while others are so full of joy that I can barely shake off their skins when I leave my bed.
Many of my dreams have formed the structure of feverishly written stories that so occupy my every waking thought that it is difficult to pull myself away for even a moment's respite. Some dreams won't leave me alone until I write them down.
( This is one of them: )
