The Way I See It

The theory goes that when you dream (and most of what we know about dreams is theory, so such conjectures are legitimate), your subconscious goes through your thoughts and tries to sort them out. This means that when you're under a lot of pressure, or big things are happening in your life, you'll tend to dream for longer. Longer periods of REM sleep will eventually translate into more periods of REM during the average sleep period than the usual 4-5, in order to accommodate all the information that needs sorting in a highly complex life. So more sleep is needed. That's the theory. Another consideration is Narcolepsy. Of all the sleep disorders I've looked into, its symptoms most match my own. Another theory is that it's both, they aren't too incompatible after all. Then again, it could just be hypochondriacism (maybe one of the longest words I've ever used legitimately). I always dream.
I had a really good one the other day where I remembered how to fly. Well, it's not really flying, per se, but it's a good feeling of weightlessness, of slowing time while you jump. Try it sometime, take a great big leap (maybe take a run at it) and when you're in the air you simply remember in the back of your mind how to fly, it's either that or forget that you should fall, and just float there for a few seconds, pedaling the intangible aether, until you come back down to rest a few meters on. In my dream I did it for hours. That was my morning.
There are places in my dreams that seem more real than reality. Have I ever told you about the house? It's a great big affair, full of countless passages and ante-rooms. On the side facing the ocean there's a huge sweeping staircase traveling three floors with Victorian glass-doored big balconies on each of the three floors. There's one passage and one room in the house that nobody knows but me, and as many times as I've visited it in my dreams, I have never revealed its location. It's like a sanctuary from any nightmare, protected only by its utmost secrecy.
I still remember the vividness of the palace floating above London. I was only there once, but it was beautiful enough to burn a lasting memory. It was Laputian in style, but once you found your way inside, you were no longer in London, you entered a parallel dimension, one where the palace was much bigger and the towers and smog were replaced by a verdant expanse. It existed briefly near the end of the nineteenth century and from then I suppose it only existed in dreams.
Is there a word for meeting somebody you haven't seen for a while, in a dream, and feeling like you really spent some quality time with them once you woke up? Those don't happen too often, but when they do I wake up with the feeling that I've been missing the part of me that was them for some time and I may have finally got it back. Only to wish they still had it so I'd feel more compelled to search them out. If you're one of those people I apologize and I hope I still have a little part of you.
There's the occasional nightmare, but when you walk the world of the lucid dream long enough, you learn how to embrace them. The dream of pursuit can be turned to adventure. After all, car chases are thrilling and parkour is a sport I've always wanted to take up. The worst is the dream where you, yourself, are the enemy. The dreams where you screw up your own life and you have to explain it to people. And it all seems so real, and there's never any really good explanation. And when you wake up, it's with a sense of relief. After all, it's just a dream.

Will