The dreams

I don't know if I've mentioned before, but I am a dreamer. My dreams are extremely vivid, not just in color, but in the thoughts and feelings I have as I walk through these dreams. The things I experience in these dreams are sometimes so real, so natural to me at the time, that I forget when I wake up that I was dreaming. I sometimes wonder if what I see is not a product of my over-active imagination, and more things that actually happen. Not to me, of course, but to others. But that's beside the point.

I recently had a succession of dreams that I felt worthy of writing down. I don't know if they actually mean something, but what I do know, is that someday, I just might actually have a story that revolves around one or all of them.

I'm not sure if I'll fit it all into one blog, or I'll take one for each, so be prepared. And they are crazy. Enjoy.


The First:
Its hot. So hot I can taste the air as it sears my lungs, the taste on my tongue a mixture of sand and hot spice. I'm in shorts and a tank-top, standing in a long room looking out a bay window. The window overlooks a vast desert, filled with mountains of sand, and the heat is leaking into every corner of that room.

I'm getting ready to leave on an expedition into that very vast desert that I am overlooking. My bags are packed and I'm ready to get into the van. We just have one more stop.

As we drive through the desert, I am plagued with thoughts of my home in America, the coolness of my room, but for some reason, I have no right to go back there.

What is I have done?
Why is the man I love not with me?
Why won't my mother look me in the face, but smiles every time she speaks to me?
Why am I happy here, for I know that I am, and I would never leave it behind.

Just as the great pyramids come into view, my thoughts turn to my good friend an confidant, Lizzy. As we pull over in front of the tan Sphinx, I think to myself "I have to remember to tell Lizzy about this. She will flip!"

We leave the cool comfort of the vans to trek through the burning sands towards the museum which lies directly between the Sphinx feet. Before we enter, I hear a loud boom, as my mother comes racing across the sands, desperately yelling at me to turn around.

Its a race to the car for our very survival. As I jump in and buckle up, I ask, "what happened." She doesn't answer.

"Mom."

"We can't stay here anymore."

And I think to myself, "no. We can't go home yet."

As the sun sets over the desert, our tracks are slowly eaten away by the encroaching desert.

And it was still hot.