When we sleep we roll a dice in our unawares and whatever it lands on that night, we happen to see that particular dream. We can try as we might but dreams are something we just cannot control and if you happen to be someone who knows how to do that then we could have a lovely albeit strange chat. In my lifetime I’ve seen many dreams, many of them which I cannot remember, I am sure I’ve seen them vividly but don’t remember the plot much less the details. Although there are some dreams I remember like I remember my name, I can visualise them to the last second and every detail. These are the ones I woke up from convinced that they actually happened.
I am a chronic dreamer, there are very few nights when I don’t see a dream, and when I was younger I loved it, they were like little live action movies that you got to be a part of. Have you ever sat in a game simulator? Dreams feel somewhat like that. I can’t do much in my dreams, it feels like my limbs are tied and I have no voice especially when I know something is going to happen. Even when I do speak it doesn’t feel like me. I am hoping you can relate. On the whole, dreams are fun. Of course, there are the nightmares and those are like cold showers the feeling of which seems as real as a punch in the gut. But I really don’t want to talk about nightmares because they are my most common enemy that I need to defeat nearly every night.
I wish there was a way to predict what dreams we could have, you know like selecting a movie to watch, but with stranger options. Dreams are always strange, at least mine are. Even when they’re exceptionally good dreams they’re still strange and I think it’s because I am a strange person on the whole. But there are those days when I wake up from a dream and think, “Damn, I wish that would actually happen.” I wish it even though I know it’ll never happen. I am making a distinction here between dreams or daydreams and the ‘dreams’ we see as goals or ambitions. They’re two very different things. Friedrich August Kekule is perhaps the only one who’s daydream proved useful in his daily life. The rest of us are not so lucky.
My daydreams though are manipulated, because in those I decide what happens. In my sleep, not so much. There are those days when we don’t see a dream, but on those days I ask myself whether my mind has played a trick on me, have I seen a dream but I can’t remember it or have I really not seen any dream? It’s really confusing. Lately, though I have a dream or two every day and I’m frankly not enjoying it too much. Mostly because my dreams have revolved around my school days and novels I have read, they’re particularly boring and to be honest a waste of time. I thought myself to be creative but it seems my dreams are just quite off the mark of late.
For someone who has phases of insomnia, I’d take dreams over no sleep any day. I still remember those days when I sat in an armchair staring at the clock’s hands trying to will myself into sleep without achieving anything. I maintained this peculiar dream diary meant only for the strangest dreams I had, ones I couldn’t understand and ones that I couldn’t stop thinking about. After a while, though the habit faded, I had too much on my hands and dreams was far from my biggest concern. I have lost the diary now in my drawers, I tried looking for it yesterday when I remembered it and had had a particularly weird dream. I looked everywhere, I couldn’t find it and I am having an odd inkling that I might have kept it in the pile of rubbish books and magazines when I was thirteen getting ready for the next school year and so now I have lost it permanently.
If it’s gone, that’s a terrible disappointment but I’m sure I’ll get over it. I have even tried to conduct dream analyses on my own dreams which have of course been an utter failure as you could have guessed. I have long since accepted that my dreams whatever they might mean are not meant for my understanding and I should perhaps let them be as they are and move on to more useful things. My dreams are what you can call erratic. They contain a lot of action, a lot of embarrassment for me and for some reason always have hoards of people in them. Those are the only common threads I can find. More often than not they are centred around my family or fictional characters that I have read about.
One dream I had recently revolved around the Harry Potter characters in my school, wearing that brown and white uniform and giving an exam with me. When I woke up, it was just so funny I couldn’t forget it. I still can’t forget it. Harry asked me to show him my paper so he could copy off of me. I sometimes think my dreams are perhaps all of my wishful thinking rolled into one big hotchpotch. They’re always unreal, always aspirational and imaginary to a fault. There are days when I wish I didn’t have to wake up from a dream and I know we’ve all had those days. The dream is everything you ever wanted but you only realise how much you were enjoying it when you wake up.
So I’ll roll the dice tonight and see what it lands on. I am not a sleep lover, but who doesn’t love a dream? But we need to remember, they’re called dreams for a reason. As Dumbledore puts it, “It doesn’t do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.“