I Prefer Dreams of Flying
Good evening. I am writing this last night.
Good morning. Thanks for joining the sleepover. I hope your dreams were very pleasant. I have not actually gone to bed yet so I can’t tell you what I dreamed last night. But I’m going to go ahead and say that my dreams were fine.
I hope I’m not lying to you.
One time I had a dream which was so terrifying I woke up trying to scream, but I couldn’t. I just lay there in bed, breathing heavily and wishing I had never gone to sleep. It would be nice if I could describe the dream to you, but I’m not going to try. There have been a few times when I’ve described this dream to some friends—face--to-face—and it never had the impact I hoped it would, so I doubt writing about it would be anything more than a waste of time.
I often have dreams in which my teeth are falling out and I keep trying to push them back in. It’s very unpleasant and I always wake up disturbed. I prefer dreams of flying.
I also have the old stand-by dreams of finding myself back in high school, wandering the halls and wondering which class I’m supposed to be going to. There’s always one class—usually a math-related subject—which I have again neglected to take and which I must finish before my graduation is official. In these dreams, I am always the age of my waking-life self and increasingly frustrated and disappointed that I still have not completed my courses. But all I do is wander the halls or mess around in the gym. I never see anybody else walking around. Sometimes I try to find my locker, but I have no idea where it is. Doesn’t matter, because I have not the slightest recollection of my locker combination.
Man, what a drag. I’m sure there are millions of people having similar dreams. Every now and then, I have a dream in which I have actually graduated from high school and am leaving, which is very exciting. When this dream comes, I wake up with the hope that I’m finally moving on in my life, as if I had finally learned some long-neglected lesson and I’m finally free. But then a few weeks later, I’ll have the same old walking-the-hallways dream again, like a perpetual loser. It sucks.
I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.