Set off on a night-sea journey
Without memory or desire
Drifting through lost latitudes
With no compass and no chart
Flying through hallucination
Distant voices, signal fires
Lighting up my unconscious
And the secret places of the hear
Dream - temporary madness
Dream - a voice in the wilderness
Dream - unconscious revelations
The morning says, the answer is yes
- nocturne by n. peart
Dreams, at least for me, are the poetic and prose, the prayers and curses, the fears and desires of my deepest self all written in a tongue that refuses to follow the language of the waking world. Imagery and imagination trump fact and historical accuracy. With that said, I view them as signposts and guides on this journey of my life where all too often of late it leads through paths untrodden and seas untraversed. As such, I tend to dream more vividly when an unformed cogitation is ruminating. The biggest obstacle to solidifying this wild imagery into a coherent message is that I often do not remember the dreams. I wake up in a fitful state, my subconscious agitated that its message was not received and my emotional state confused at the cause of the disrupted sleep.
When disrupted at 3 am by a visit from the dreamworld, I've found that jotting a few notes will help me remember it in the morning. Those few notes typically relate to the emotion that the dream generated and I can work back from there. One such night I was awoken by a powerful dream. I needed my sleep so I quickly spit out the feeling on my iphone. The next morning I barely remember any of the events. Did I have a dream? I did. I check my phone and it reads, "NOT the way it used to be." The imagery refuses to form and I'm left with the haunted feeling that my psyche intuits that more is yet to still change in my surreal life.