I’ve been having a lot of dreams lately. Not like an isolated dream here and there, but many dreams, within a night. Psychedelic dreams. Dreams where I can taste food. Dreams alone, and with people.
The dreams come to me in fragments. Sometimes I wake between fragments, remembering little except that I have emerged from a dream. Some dreams though, I remember, long after I’m awake.
I don’t know if I am somehow expected to fit the pieces together. Disparate dreams, where I am supposed to weave into a coherent narrative. I don’t even know, whether there is logic or method behind these dream fragments.
Every night, as I lie in bed, I will cajole “nice memories” to come. In hopes that my dreams can reconstruct those memories, and maybe even build on them, to prolong the “niceness”. Like daydreaming, but not really. My mind works like a broken record, always turning back to look at the past, forgetting the world of possibilities ahead of me.
There are some dreams you hope will never end while at the same time hoping that they will end.