Real and Dream-Like

Sometimes I feel like the dreams that I have while I sleep are sitting with me now physically.

The dreams I have when I sleep at night convince me that the impossible exists. It was suggested to me to write my dreams as stories.

I like to read every kind of book except for science fiction and fantasy. Despite the urging of my brother to read a science fiction book called “Hyperion” and the Lord of the Rings series, I feel no curiosity to get to know any science and fantasy book well. Not even the prize-winning “Fahrenheit 451” peaks any interest in me. I have a hard time feeling emotionally close to any of the characters in these books. Maybe I feel at my best reading a book with characters and settings that I can find in real life. I think that I perceive fantastical settings as images that raise my expectations too high. I perceive them as pulling me into thinking more on ideals than of reality.

Maybe, though, when people write about their dreams more, then people may start believing that alternate realities exist such as a reality where fairness and kindness prevail. The more people tell of their dreams, the more they may be open to seeing more than they can tangibly perceive.

I wonder why dreams are contorted in such a way that their sequences can never fit together in the world as I sense now. Despite my disliking reading science fiction and fantasy books, in a way, I would like to dedicate myself in immersing myself in an impossible reality.

The real world today differs from the real world in every past century. Sometimes I think ‘the real world’ is a tired term. ‘The real world’ is different for everyone; however, from my personal experience, ‘the real world’ has always been explained to me as a world where injustice, lack of honor, respect, service, integrity actively reside. I see dreams as challenging the term ‘the real world’. I like to think that dreams contribute to thinking outside the box. What happens in dreams gets me thinking about the unusual as very likely usual to be usual.

Dreams are scattered pieces fitting together anyway because they are organic. Human beings are originally as savage as dreams — originally uncontrolled. Human beings are a distorted mess as much as dreams are.

Maybe I haven’t felt drawn to science fiction and fantasy books as they don’t reflect my dreams at night. I have a better relationship with other kinds of books as I don’t struggle as much to feel a part of myself in them. Yet, I give them credit for encouraging thinking beyond the big picture.

I remember a lot of my dreams. To generalize, they are terrifyingly intense and captivating. Some scenes are hard to watch because killing takes place at times and some faces are eerie-looking and affect me so much that they don’t budge when I tell them to please leave.

I think I remember my dreams because they challenge my feelings. Dreams aren’t nothing when they are remembered well. Maybe they are meant to be physically known. They are likely to be considered in helping to influence how to communicate better with certain people. This, in itself, means that dreams can be real.

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