I love to dream

I love to dream. Not day-dream but sleep-dream.

I hadn't been remembering my dreams the past few years (yes, years.) and I miss dreaming.
So one day, I wonder why haven't I been remembering my dreams. (by the way, it is said that we dream every night when we sleep, but we may not have a memory of our dreams), so ya, I was wondering why I haven't been remembering my dreams. I could only narrow it down to perhaps the poor sleep-quality that I have in the past few years. Like past six years, I suppose. So I was glad that I am beginning to remember my dreams again in the past two weeks.Oh, ya. I do remember one or two very lucid dreams but they come once in a very blue moon. (one very lengthy, graphic dream took place 2.5 years ago, I surely remember that). So anyway, yesterday morning, I dreamt about me at a hawker centre fishball stall. The hawker running the stall was my pre-U class mate- "Z.Z", she looked more or less the same from school days, just like a tad older. I was excited to see her, I said - Hey! ZZ, how have you been? (we weren't exactly close or anything, she had only stayed in school for a year before she left and got married and the last she updated me, she was expecting a baby. that was.... 1991). Anyway, in my dream, my warmth was not met at same level, ZZ smiled awkwardly. I don't know why I had ordered 20 cents worth of fishball noodles but she did make a bowl of noodles for me (without any fishballs), a few strands of noodles in a small bowl. So I thought to myself (in my dreams), oh, silly me, what on earth was i thinking! (i chided myself in my dream). I apologised for my boo-boo and said - Sorry, I mean $2 fishball noodles. (still, my dream state is not updated with current pricing... where got $2 fishball noodles these days!) Anyhow, she served me a bowl of full size noodles complete with fishball. We didn't chat in my dreams, that was the end of that short dream but I am very glad I remember my dream. I want to remember ALL my dreams. Good or bad ones.  There was once, i was telling my colleague about a random dream. he looked at me and thought that i was bizarre. he said no one dreams in colours. i said of course dreams are coloured, you see colour in the day, why won't you dream colour in your mind? i asked him. he was very puzzled. he said his dreams are like greyish monotone or at best faded monotones. i have never thought that anyone would dream without colours and he had never thought that anyone dreamt in colours. so i went on and asked if he dreams of himself as himself or in his dreams he could be somebody else. he looked at me like i was crazy. he said of course he dreams of himself as himself because he is himself. i said occasionally i dream of myself as myself but mostly i am not myself in my dreams. i am usually a presence, a consciousness, or most of the time, just whatever character in my dream. for example, i have been an old, caucasian man, a very ancient pigtail china man, and many others, many times soldiers in the field, at war zones. always as man. i have not dreamt of myself being a woman except when being in my current self. i think that was too much information for my friend to handle, he really thought that i was joking with him. and i haven't even told him about any of my flying dreams or supernatural dreams. i have not told anyone except brendan that i even dream in animation. (but that only happened twice, but it was wow.) i telepathy in my dreams. sometimes, the people in my dreams also telepathy me. so we talk through the eyes. it is very natural. i think not everyone dreams these kind of dreams. from the look of it, very few people dream of themselves as somebody else, so i hardly talk about my dreams since then. but others' opinions has no effect on my fondness of dreaming. oh, i don't like stressful dreams though. who would. stressful dreams are dreams where i keep running. running running running. anxiously hiding. there are forces wanting to capture me. other stressful dreams are like me searching frantically for a phone to call during an emergency. always, and i say always, i couldn't get my fingers to dial the correct numbers. it takes a horse's strength to command my fingers to move accordingly. and IF i had finally dialed through the number, the receiver would tell me that i've got the wrong number! or that there would be an engaged tone. those kind of dreams i dread. so there. i've said it.