Upon waking up, I immediately scold myself for not remembering my dream. I knew it existed, but it seemed my fear was coming true: upon starting this dream-tracking blog, I would suddenly stop dreaming. Not fun.
I lived my day, expressed my frustration to my confidant, and as the East-coast pre-snowstorm precipitation fell to the ground, the only solution seemed to be a new favorite, super-customized drink from Starbucks (I know the baristas here by name).
I drank my cup of warm loving on my way to my grandmother's house, the person I haven't seen in about two months (thanks to school). Upon visiting, my eyes become weighted because of the weather...I drift...
Darkness. Complete darkness. I am in a familiar place...I feel it. And though I'm scared, there is a strange sort of comfort surrounding me. I'm on a road. A road once occupied by cars, it's now being walked by three people. One of them, perhaps the most frightened of them all, is talking to his companions. That person was me.
Fast-forward to a familiar spot. I am now in a place I've been before: well-lit (summer), barely-inhabited, non-existent in the real world (to my knowledge). It is a pseudo-summer school/camp, which I've never attended. My previous encounters here have been quite mischievous.
The place transforms into my college's campus...it's time for class. I remember the last time I was here: meeting my cousin on strange terms, being late for a class I'm not signed up for, starting a protest in the "quad," if you will, and even shooting a sniper that was aiming for me and my fellow protesters. Intense.
I am once again late for class. I take a shortcut, a tunnel-like area, all natural, sharing features you'd see in a video game. A huge bog/swamp is to my right. It is day. Suddenly, it turns to night. I'm then accompanied with two unusual guests: my parents. We hear something ahead...no just me. They don't see him. They don't hear him. I do. He's there.
I look down and am distracted by snakes that naturally live in this bog. Coral, rattle, black...the snakes are endless. I'm usually terrified, but the unwanted guest has stolen all of my fear. I then, in a moment of sheer embarrassment and loss of dignity, climb on my father's shoulders, and he escorts me out of the bog-tunnel. Light again.
I wake up.
Have you ever woken up from a great dream, then find yourself angry or saddened because you couldn't revisit it? Is that cigar JUST a cigar? inmydreams... is made by a once-avid blogger, telling the tale that resides in his dreams. Every detail in the blog is told exactly how he remembers it. Granted, some days he will not dream, which means more time for him to catch up on the goings-on of other bloggers. Step into the most active sub-conscience you’ll meet. Step into his dreams.
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