Dreams are strange.
They are are simply thoughts of color and the smallest hint of physical feeling.
Mixed with emotion and memories from that day, or even years ago.
I dream of things that make me cry when I awake.
Yearn to be back even though I didn't like it.
When I open my eyes, the feeling of falling or floating invades my heart. My blood pumping due to the adrenaline from my dream.
As I go about my day. I cant remember what my dream WAS, just that I wish it would come back.
Because compared to life, dreaming is fantastical. A story-like movie drawn out in your mind.
Consisting of your thoughts and actions. But nothing like what you've actually done.
Things that havent happened in real life, but that have in my dreams. Drawing me in each night.
At least hopefully.
I don't dream much anymore.
I want to be swallowed by the color and vivid imagery.
But as I hope for being in a dream each night.
Thats where my thoughts are.
In a dream.
A dream that no longer comes.