There's a Gary Jules song called "Mad World" in which he sings, "the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." At the risk of sounding freaky or self-destructive, I've got to say that I find this to be a very easy-to-relate-to line.
Some people say you can't die in your dreams, but I think they're wrong! I died in mine last night and it was so weird and amazing and beautiful...in the dream I die in some kind of ##% accident (don't want to write it down since I feel like it would jinx things) and my spirit survives.
...I'm invisible (which is something I've always wanted to be)...My sister and niece are the only ones who can see me which is sort of odd if you ask me, but oh well...I'm happy and I can still enjoy things like eating (but now without any calories or consequences) and reading...and I get to see how people I've always liked are doing, too...and can help them out in tricky spots.
Ever since I was a little girl I've had the weirdest dreams...but in the years since my insomnia has gotten worse I've discovered that I sleep best and have the most intense dreams only when I have a cold and take NyQuil and magnesium together....
To me, it seems dreams are taken for granted or not even thought much of at all. But how can something that happens to you while you sleep, that feels so real and often so beautiful, be dismissed as "just" biological or (worse) reduced to a ridiculously pat ( and patronizing) theory like Freudian interpretation?
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