DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

8/12/15

I walk alone through a field of flowers but I don’t see any color.  You are in the back of my mind, jumping in and out of the wind, remaining in the streaks of sunlight that fall over the land that I only know at night, in the back of my mind, my subconscious, and I wonder if you dream of me too.  I wonder if you lay on your back, in the middle of the night, the sweat beading over your forehead, as you feel the anxiety and angst that comes with the feeling of uncertainty, the uncertainty you feel when you feel that we may never intertwine in the way that some souls do, when those stepping stones appear among the planets and stars and clouds and light and color of the universe, the universe that appeared from nothing and consists of everything, and our paths may have, or may in the future, meet. 

I walk amidst a land grey and full of foliage, contained with solitude and lacking peace.  Trees dot the area, and the grassy land reminds me of the carpet that lies next to me on the ground beside my bed.  I continue walking until I see a small house, something that could even be compared with a mausoleum, except the inside is well exposed to the out.  It lacks complete walls, welcoming strangers, allowing anyone to sit inside and view happenings from the outside in, but I have a fear of the house built from wooden planks and cement.  In my dream the area around the house is hazy and unclear and I can’t tell how I should feel about the house, as it is a dream, and I have never seen it before, but then I let my thoughts within the dream reminisce a bit and I realize I have seen this house before, in my mind, in my dreams, from the back of my mind, from something so deep inside of me that it feels a part of me, a part of who I am, a part of my history and life, something I can’t explain but feel like I belong to. I realize I have seen this house in other dreams before.  I realize I have woken up from dreams of dreaming of this house before, wondering what the significance of it was, wondering why in my dream I always experienced it around the house and never in it, and I asked myself, had I ever been in the house and not have remembered it?  Some people have reoccurring dreams that they have because it has significance to their subconscious, and this one may as well be one of those, among many others, but there was something so inviting about the house.  There was something about the house that I felt when looking at it that made me think that I’d never see anything like it again, something that made me feel like I’d never feel like I did in real life when looking at the house.  A small mausoleum with open spaces, how significant is that to a dream?  What is that supposed to mean?  Was that just a coincidence?  Am I just noticing it like that, or is it actually just a shack meant to invite my imagination to come inside, to see things from another perspective?  I’ll never forget how I felt, floating around the house.  The shack had person-like qualities, reassuring me that my dream was benevolent, telling me that there was a place to go (my subconscious, my dreams) to escape the everyday boring and mundane.  Some things you just don’t experience when you are alone, or even with other people, but the mind is a powerful thing, and when given the chance your dreams can behold powerful messages, things we aren’t used to, things that amaze us for those two seconds after we wake up and then forget as soon as the everyday normal world comes back to us and the sunlight through the window pane hits our eyes.

But as soon as I leave the dream, I wake up, and dream of dreaming of someone to dream these dreams with.  I dream of having someone to share the surreal with.  Do you? 

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.