A long time ago I was writing a short story. I forget which one, but that’s not important. While writing I had a thought about dreams.
Obviously I know that I dream. I have dreamt about a lot of people in my life and sometimes it is people that I have long forgotten about in my waking state.
Quite why such people creep out of my subconscious to wander around my dreams is a mystery that I can’t unravel. Dreams about people are nice though. They can help me remember nice times with friends, recall times from long ago at school and sometimes it makes you want to reach out to them again. Even if you don’t then it’s nice to wonder where people are now and what they are doing.
But going back to my original thought. It was this: I wonder how many people’s dreams I have been in?
There are two sides of this. The one is a pleasurable feeling because, and it may just be me, knowing that I potentially turn up in other people’s dreams offers a sort of immortality, an omnipresence that even if I was to shuffle off this mortal coil, I wouldn’t be forgotten. There is a certain comfort in that.
The other side of it is a little voyeuristic. Even though I don’t know what I’m doing in other people’s dreams, the thought of me muddling around in someone else’s head is a little bit funny. Just imagine having that access to someone else’s head. Just running amok with invasive freedom.
Of course, who knows what the Hell I’m doing, what kind of person that I’m being interpreted as in other people’s dreams!
Dreams are just fun because there are no set boundaries and a lot of inspiration can be pulled from that one fact alone. I can be superman one night and three inches tall locked in a fridge the next.
So yeah, dreams. Get inspired.