Each night I remind myself to watch my dreams carefully, but each morning, they just float away from my stream of thoughts. There are good dream and bad dreams but I can’t remember them at all, just a new day with clean slate waiting for a new paint stroke. I feel refreshed and cheerful as I walk away from my soft bed.
There are dreams of the adventures that I am physically too weak to take. There is surfing on high seas, there is Para-gliding under strong winds, I climb huge mountains, trekking through the rough roads. Up in the mountains I try balancing act and suddenly the cord snaps and I fall down on my soft bed
Sometimes I party crash into the Bollywood world; I drink the free booze and gulp the food with smile. A director finds me attractive and invites me to casting couch, ten large hands grope my body and I perspire, I shout and squirm and cry for help, and then I am relieved when I find myself in my soft bed
Then there are dreams of my loved one, whom I have not met for long, some are lost and some are just, forever gone. They visit me in my dreams and we share a song. There is laughter, cheers, joys, happiness and peace and I wake up in the morning with the smile in my eyes, saving my dreams under pillows of my soft bed
I have seen my grandfather’s dentures, up on sale, all the ladies in my society have long, curly nails, and there is a man in his underwear talking to his roses, saying a tearful goodbye to his broken weeds. The smell of daffodils creeps into my dream, when I open my eyes, I see flowers beside my soft bed.
I remove the parasitic nodes and other junk from my mind, making connections in a safe place from this worldly grind, although some complete the patterns of emotional expectations and some do lower my awful stress, but I am disassociated from my conscious state, lying still and breathing evenly in my soft bed.
I have sought meaning in dreams or divination through dreams. Dreams have history, both as a subject of conjecture and as a source of inspiration. It is physiologically a response to a neural process, psychologically, it is a reflection of the subconscious, but spiritually, I feel my Lord’s presence on my soft bed
I have a déjà vu when my dream escapes, to show me the familiarity of the people I have never ever met, mysteriously reminding me of the situation or place, that in my sub conscious mind I had it suppressed. I am planning to pre- program my next beauty sleep, and hoping to remember from start to the end, I will watch it carefully, forward and rewind and will memorize my dreams on my soft bed.
Monday, September 22, 2008
|I could Be A Poet, er..Am I?|
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|The Keys to My Heart|