Dreamscape.

Over the past few weeks, I've been reliving the past. I've been doing things that I used to do and it's all because of one thing: I didn't dream.

My dreams comfort me. Sure, most of the time, I get night terrors but then it doesn't matter. I need it, like it's a drug, something to show me that my imagination is working and fuck it's hyperactive. So when a bout three weeks ago, I realised that I simply stopped dreaming, it freaked the ever living shit out of me. Did I dream and somehow lost the ability to recall it? Then I realised that it was progressive, in a way that slowly, my dreams became less lucid. I lost the ability to do a lot more things (Weaving the fabric of space itself, for example) and eventually I simply stopped being able to control anything. I attributed it to the growing stress and then I couldn't even remember what the fuck I was dreaming about. So, that was worrying.

So lately I've been keeping a dream journal, something that I never needed to do but I guess the time had come for me to do so. It showed me a lot of things that I took for granted all these years. For example, I just realised that I have never ever smoked in my dream before. As in literally. The imagery of cigarettes pops up quite often but to smoke a cigarette itself? Never. Which is surprising considering how I have about seventy fucking empty boxes of cigarette stacked on my table.

I must own this cigarette box.

You know how studies tend to talk about how you couldn't dream of something you don't already know/see? Well fuck, I've never really believed that shit. I dream about shit that I've never known all the time and the problem is that I don't have a way of confirming it. So now I'm confused as fuck because this happened:

I dreamt about a really fucked up dream etc, etc, queue weirdness, curtains, all that shit and then I dreamt about a friend of mine, a fellow Alexandrian. So I went into my house and I found here there which surprised the ever living shit out of me considering I was living in the middle of the north pole, trying to stop development from extending its grimy hands there. Yes, it was that sort of dream. So I asked her, what the fuck are you doing here, like? She somehow was mute(?) or was coy, I couldn't make up my mind, so I decided that fuck it, I'm going to lie down. Then for some fucking reason I had an acute interest in the fabric of her clothes - I'm serious. It did not evolve into some sort of 'Tally-ho, I'm going all the way' dream, I was simply interested in the material of her clothes - And upon inspection, I realised something else. She had braces. And I remember saying it aloud; 'You don't wear braces, what the fuck is wrong with my subconscious?'.

Well guess motherfucking what, here's something in which I could confirm, so I went nextdoor to ask and fucking lo and behold, she used to wear braces. Then I was confused because the others did not share my enthusiasm over the matter but what the hell. It was fucking ground breaking. It meant that somewhere along the line, I must have known that she wore braces, whether she told me or I heard from another person, whatever. I forgot every-fucking-thing about that but my subconscious did not, it held that information. Fuck. FUCK! That means that there's worlds of info that resides in every single one of fucking us and that shit is just fucking mind-blowing. I had genuinely forgotten it. Fuck. That was such an awesome fucking dream. Fuck.

Eargasm of the motherfucking day: It's fucking funky.