There’s a writing on the wall of my dorm room.
“I had a dream once. It’s all murky now. But that’s alright. Because if I had one then, I sure can have one now.”
It is somewhat inspired from the Max Payne 2 quote.
[Final quote] I had a dream of my wife. She was dead. But it was all right.
There have been many things I have dreamt for, there are many things I have had nightmares about. Many came true and most faded in the morning light but there is always a need within to seek out another dream.
Welcome again and this time, I am here Narrating about The search for a Dream.
To dream is to set self loose in the world of possibilities that you wouldn’t normally consider. Be it low self-esteem, lack of feasibility or just plain fantastical nature of the ideas we conceive, we reject them in the real life. In our dreams however, we let ourselves free of all binds – for in our dreams, anything is possible. There is no restrictions to bind our creativity and sometimes, even the outlandish of ideas can be explained by simple logic when the mind is allowed to focus on it.
I do not remember confessing it here but I am a story-teller. And the very first story I really wrote (though it is too raw for public eyes – and yet available for reading on Wattpad) came through a dream. A dream of where the story unfolded from the eyes of the ‘bad guy’, who knew he was supposed to die but didn’t know the one who will kill him. And so he undertook a journey with some of his followers – unaware that one of them was the one destined to kill him – as he travelled through his kingdom. This became the base of the entire story that unfolded later upon many revisions. The base remained unchanged even if I kept modifying the outer layers.
Later, it was an attempt at meditation when another story came to mind. It was a scene really. Of being in the ruins, where a modern boy backed against a door. And in front of him was a girl – dressed in white nightclothes. The girl had her hand outstretched, as if to caress the boy’s cheek, but her entire form shimmered since she was a ghost who haunted the ruin.
In one of the books I read, though I have forgotten which one, there was a scene of a teenager boy standing directly under the waterfall for fun and a girl screaming in fear as she suspected something worse. And that gave me the story idea of what if the boy was doing it to put himself in a dangerous decision. The mind automatically answered the why for this ridiculous idea: To know the regret we feel in those moments before we die. And from there, the threads expanded to include the theme of addiction and depression in order to shape the story.
There are countless more stories, and only just mine in this world of billions, and every single one of them was born from the dreams. And now, I seek a new dream for myself.
Because with every dream, I discover more about myself than I could have realized otherwise. They are the mirrors in which I feel myself reflected, with all my fears and joys and sorrows and hopes. And now, with the old dreams slowly fading away, I find myself seeking new ones.
Maybe they will help me in the stories I am yet to tell, maybe they will help me give a unique spin to others’ stories or maybe they will be entirely new stories… But I know that they will tell me something about myself.