Dreams - my own warped reality

“Every time I see you in my dreams, I see your face, it’s haunting me”

Dreams are really scary for me. You know the “a dream is a wish your heart makes/in dreams you will lose your heartache” phrase? For me, it’s more like “a dream is a mirror of your life, whether it’s heartbreak or happiness”. And unfortunately for me, it’s heartbreak a lot of the time.

The dreams are really realistic too – I can see every detail of his face, every expression: which is basically extra creepy because it means that I’ve stored all these details in my brain. And it’s like if something was very significant in my life, I experience it over and over again. But not the good things. More like the absolutely terrible things. They replay and replay over and over in my head.

I hate this twisted reality – not knowing what’s real… not being able to tell it’s a dream… well, no I can tell it’s a dream. But it’s definitely realistic, even if it’s warped. There are parts of it that are so real: I can see the setting, each place that I’ve been before, places that apparently have significance to me. However, there are very strange aspects of it – driving a bed instead of a car, a jungle inside an airport, the walls made of leather and patterned like – I’m not even sure. But it was cushioned. And the wall was massive. And beautiful – I remember once I was lying on the ground, staring at it… I’ve never seen anything like that in my life, yet I saw it in my dream in such vivid detail.

Very rarely, actually, can I ever remember specific people. It’s like people aren’t important enough for me to remember, I remember the setting, the emotions – I know people are there, and I think most of the time they are people I don’t know. People that are faceless (but they aren’t actually faceless, they have faces that I just don’t care about or recognize) that allow me to float in a crowd, surrounded yet completely alone.

Just like I know there were people on the highway, they were inside the cars, yet I didn’t see any of them. I just knew that the cars weren’t empty, the streets filled, and I walked facing the view and I sang with every drop of feeling in my soul. I sang beautifully – too bad it’s something I can’t do in real life. I can remember everything I felt, the utter anguish, loneliness… it mirrors my life. I’ve always wanted to analyze my dreams, figure out what I really wanted on the inside… but I’m not sure it actually works that way. I know it’s an extension of my subconscious, and really, I can probably find out a lot about myself just by doing that… maybe. It’s not like I’m blind. I think I see myself for who I am… I can see my flaws, I know what I yearn for… unless I really don’t know and my subconscious is desperately trying to tell me something. But that seems strange to me, that I don’t actually know myself. Of course I know myself! Silliness.

I dislike disturbing dreams. They make my entire morning uneasy, they make me not want to see people just because they were terrible in my dreams. And then I feel bad for being so influenced by myself, by my dream.

I’ve been writing this post for about three and a half hours. Sorry if it sounds super choppy and repetitive, I’ve just been distracted. I might post again.

Oh, and just because I feel like I need to add a picture on… I don’t really feel in the mood though. I feel a bit depressed and unwilling and unknowing and unsure. Yes, unsure, that was the word that I was going for. And I’m just letting all the words that come to mind tumble, tumble right out of my mouth. I need to find a picture…. Well, let’s just put a picture of T.O.P J Because he is full of fabulousness and adorableness. I love how they’re all just super adorable ♥

And suddenly, my mood just got about ten thousand times better