Monday, September 19, 2011

I dreamt.

"So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!" ~Peter Pan

I very rarely do. Or perhaps what I should say is that I very rarely remember what my dream is since it is believed that everyone dreams. My mom and brother are the dreamers in the family, my dad and I... not so much. Once upon a time I thought that I'd like to keep a dream journal... there was nothing to write in it. Then I had a recurring dream which I eventually figured out and so I stopped dreaming it... and in 2004 I had a two-week period of nightly dreams which I did record but after that my dreams have been very few and far between. 

On Saturday morning though, I had a dream. I'm fairly certain that the only reason I remember is because it was in that hazy period of I'd woken up and fallen back asleep in the early morning. It was strange in a through-the-cupboard-visit-to-Narnia way though in my case there were a series of doors and landscapes. I was cleaning my room (I really *must* do this in real life). I'd lost and found my slippers. My brother and I were accomplices. My dad knew of some of what was happening before. My mom was curious. There were caverns and meadows and a rock band and shelves filled with knick-knacks and assorted furniture. 

I think I was looking for something but it all fell apart. Dissolved as dreams do when one awakens. I'm fairly surprised that this one has stayed with me and that when I close my eyes I can call up the images of each scene. 

I'd really like to be able to remember more of my dreams.


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