My dreams are funny. When I am dreaming them they are so clear. They all make sense. It is like I am dropped in small stories. There are only small parts which I experience. However there are memories in my dreams. Maybe walking down a path, in my dream I recall being on the path before. And maybe it was in another dream. But it isn’t any place I have been in real life. Sometimes I will remember to do something different. It is hard to explain other than to say, I feel like my dreams are small chapters of other stories.
In some cases I even feel like I know the future in my dreams. I know how events will unfold and I try to stay in the dream to watch them. Like a movie you have seen before. You want to see it, even though you know the ending.
In my dreams locations and people are fluid. One moment I am atop a mountain. The next in the city. I am one person, then I am another. Often I am more of an observer in a story.
Throughout the night, if my dreams were a book. The chapters would be coming from different stories. They are mixed together in no order. One chapter fades into the next. But the feeling of discontinuity is never felt. I never feel like I am lost in my dreams. I always know who I am and where I am.
The funny thing is while I sink so much into my dreams. They feel so real. When I awake I can rarely re-call any of them. They are gone. Zap. Like someone closed the book and I can’t re-open it while I am awake. At times I try and recall them. During the dream it seems so likely I will, but then they are gone.
For the first few moments I can still feel the dream. Like emerging from a hot bath and still feeling slightly wet and warm. But the images fall away fast. If I dream about someone I know in real life I hold those dreams longer. But most of my dreams are not about people I know.
Is my brain just telling itself stories?