Flying through the air, beautifully foreign city lights twinkle up at me. They seem to form a trellis of warm orange glows, specks and pinpoints that make up an uncanny radiance. A European country? I don’t know.
Falling, falling through the air, screaming for fear of losing my life. Somehow I have lost my ability to fly. The wind rushes past me so quickly as I accelerate towards the ground. I don’t know if I am the one falling, or the one saving the one falling. Either way, there is someone with me. The one saving me catches me, and a parachute opens safely before we hit the ground.
Somehow we land in my home again, and all is good and well.
Honestly, I don’t understand myself. How do I come up with such dreams? No, I did not watch Aladdin before I went to bed, but this is the coolest dream I’ve ever had.
My Aladdin-worthy magical dream that my weird brain decided to come up with to make me happy before I take my exams. One of the things I am really intrigued about is how we dream. Are these scenes adapted from past memories? Our desires? Our fears? I really don’t know but it is ever so interesting. And how is it that in the dream, the fear felt so real? Even though once I woke up my reality in the dream faded away to the reality that is real.(If you get what I mean)
What I am angry about is that I can never remember my dreams. I wish I could! I remember only random fragments of it (like almost dying). I can’t even remember whether my dream was in the perspective of the victim or the hero, which is really sad. And I can’t remember who saved me/I saved, though it seems like a super significant detail. Sigh, I don’t get this dreammaking stuff.
Guess what I remember? That somehow when I reached home again in the dream, there was some magical shipment or I brought back branded bags and shoes for my mum from somewhere like Europe. She even said the shoes were too small.
My brain is such a sucker for trivial matters.