Too weird to live, too rare to die

I have people and places that I only know in my dreams. Not fantasy, just good old fashioned dream. Nightmares sometimes. Or most of the time for I never dream happy. Happy isn’t for me. In dreams or reality.

They come back in my reoccurring visions (or hallucinations if you prefer) oftentimes in the same dream which funny enough continues after I woke up and go back to sleep. I can even put them on hold or redirect the circumstances according to my wish. Some dreams feel more real than the others and more vivid than reality.

People say dreams are just memories one has long forgotten. I don’t believe them. Surely you can’t forget those that make you feel___ different for lack of a better word. And memories are from the past, not recent. Or perhaps (arguably) I mix the past with the present/recent. Because most of them are grown-ups interacting with a grown-up me.

And most of the places in my dreams are venues I have never been to. I know that for sure. How many yellow cities are there, which collapsed to reveal another layer? A city within a city. Something like that.

I know, most dreams are weird and don’t make sense, but people with faces I don’t recognize? C’mon…

They feel familiar though. As if I have known them all my life. Some I wish I really have known because they give positive vibes and make me feel safe.

The great Edgar Allan Poe once said:

You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream…

What do you think?

2 thoughts on “Too weird to live, too rare to die”

  1. I think dreams are the expressions of our subconscious trying to work things out from our daytime lives. I say that, but I’m not sure how I live that by my dreams. I often dream of places I haven’t been to. In recent years, they have been merging into a whole region I don’t know but keep dreaming about. As for people, I often dream of those I know or knew. Maybe for the persons of the past I am indeed trying to work something out.

    I’m sorry your dreams aren’t happy. Mine rarely are. Mostly, the feeling is matter-of-fact. Sometimes sad, sometimes frightening.

    When I read the title all by itself, I thought you were going to write about the platypus.

    I hope you have a pleasant weekend. If not happy dreams, shall I say good ones?

    Like

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