Dreams... we all have them. Maybe they are our hidden desires of something we want to happen. Maybe they are something our subconscious reveals to us at night. Or maybe they are just fluttering thoughts that haunt us throughout the day.
Every culture has theories about dreams and if you're a girl, chances are you own at least one dream book. Perhaps you don't now, but at some point you most certainly did. You may even own a set of tarot cards, maybe a dream journal.
The mystical occult of dreams and fortunetelling...
My family has their own definitions to dreams. The difference between one bird and two could mean life or death. A cat meant someone was ripping you apart behind your back - a dog, a good friend for life. All of ours were animal based beliefs, this is a bit strange since I was raised Catholic.
Then there are the basics that traverse every culture - birth and death - they always mean change.
Personally, I think dreams are too private a thing to expect to find a meaning in a generic dream dictionary. Take a black horse for example. To you it may be a reminder of a something sinister, apocalyptic or negative, but to me horses are majestic and probably my favorite animal so chances are they just represent freedom in my subconsciousness. And black, well black is like a warms soft blanket on a cold winter day...
To me - freedom and safety. To you - death and destruction.
In my life, when I start analyzing my dreams, pulling out the tarot cards, staring at the tea leaves at the bottom of my mug, I know that I'm "transitional."
That is a nice way to say I'm looking for something that I can't seem to find the answer too - or I'm looking to be reaffirmed about something, some decision I've made in my life...
I need, just for the tiniest of moments, to have someone or something tell me I'm right about the thoughts, feelings and decisions that I have made. To let me know that I'm not a complete screw up.
But I don't talk about it...
That's when I have nightmares - which I do frequently, you know... 'cause of holding stuff in - that's when I know that my stress level is too high. (As I've stated before, I've died in every manor and minor you can think of - and sadly, I'm not joking. I've woken up crying, gasping for air, falling out of bed, flailing about tied up in my bed sheets...)
That's what happens when you like to take care of things by yourself, even when there are people willing to help you out.
Regardless - for the most part dreams are wonderful things. Even if you don't understand them or don't want to try. Some of my favorite dreams that I've ever had had nothing to do with my life - they were just vivid stories that my mind made up to entertain me - like the time I stole the Winnebago and rescued a brothel of prostitutes in Florida. We were caught, you see, one of the girls was trying to grab her boyfriend to take him with us, but he was a bit daft and didn't know what was going on. We had all been kidnapped and thrown into the life - and when the madam told me I had to do my "job" or be killed, I left... when I say my dreams are vivid I'm not joking. Sound, color and some times music.
That was over five years ago and still I laugh when I think about it. Stupid daft boyfriend.
Most of my dreams, recently, have been bizarre tantrums with vivid colors and trippy movements. I really didn't think much about them until tonight - you see, I actually wrote this post about 2 weeks ago and originally there was a section that I cut out. After the portion about death, birth and change I had added, "...what the hell else can change in my life?!" in reference to some transitional type dreams I had around that time.
I removed the section because I always fall towards the negative side of life... and I'm a bit (a lot) superstitious. Figured I had just jinxed myself by typing those words out for you to read...
But tonight it popped in my head and I saw the other side of the coin. Positive change.
Fine, maybe dreams are just dreams.
Or maybe they are signs to what's to come.
Then again, maybe they are just a chemical being released in my brain that is causing me to trip in my sleep.
I don't know.
I like to think that when I die, I'll find out all the answers to this and many other great questions I carry with me day in and out - but for now I just have the joy of speculating, and because I like this happy feeling in my heart, brain and belly, I'm going to speculate the hell out of the potential positive change and than I'm going to state that I think we're all a little psychic - if only we'd allow ourselves to be. Everyone else calls it your "gut."
And I don't care what you think about that. (Put that in your pipe and smoke it!)
If we didn't have them we'd be dull, dull little contrive things that only exist to do mundane routines - lather, rinse, repeat - and who wants to be that person? Immersed in my far fetched ideals and schemes... that's where I will be. Dreamin' away.
Dreamin' the good life...