Dreams

What if dreams are only memories of lives gone by? Would that explain their terrible power to hang over into a day where they should have no effect at all?

Or perhaps they are precursors of things to come, not in this life, but the next?

And maybe they are now, in this time, but in other places or dimensions that I am not consciously aware of?

A new person has appeared in my dreams and she is so familiar. I say this having never seen her face, but I interact with her as if she were my closest mentor, or friend, or maybe even relative.  We are in places I am familiar enough with to notice that changes have been made. A park where someone took out all the indigenous shrubbery and planted exotic tropical plants. I tell her these may look nice but they will never survive here and she accuses me of getting old and set in my ways. Or I find myself going through her drawers looking for something very precious to me that I know she has stored away.

Before my dreams have mostly been in large complexes or cities where I am lost or trying to get home at night without encountering loose dogs.  The people have mostly been my immediate family, both living and dead, but now there are strangers who don't feel like strangers.

I have always been a vivid dreamer. The earliest dreams I remember were before I was three years old, while I still slept in a small bed that had side rails to keep me from falling out. Most of those, that I remember, were night terrors. Three dimensional dreams appearing before my eyes on my covers. I still occasionally have those types of dreams and they are still terrifying. Not because of what is happening, but because I know it is impossible for this to be happening in my room at night. 

If nothing else is true, I still have two distinct lives. One at night when I am sleeping and one during the day when I am awake and both have profound effects on how I feel.