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I had a dream last night. Actually, it was only in the last few minutes of sleep (you know those, the ones that feel as if they last a few hours but really are only a few minutes and are the most vivid and make you feel the most heavy after you wake up?). In fact, I think I had even woke up before I had it, and then went back to sleep and dreamed again. It was my first recurring dream, ever-- which also is my first dream about flying.
I suddenly have this ability in my dreams where I can jump very high and just hover, and then float, and whisk myself around in the air as if I were just swimming underwater. I've NEVER been able to fly before in dreams. Now, suddenly, I'm completely boundless. It always starts on my driveway, too. I jump up, and I just stay in midair . . . and as time goes on, I can make myself go higher and higher, and side to side, anywhere I want-- rather slowly, but still. I'm always so afraid, within the dream, that I will ground myself and lose this ability, but I never do. I can come back down and walk on land, but I can always pop back on up when I want to.
Flying in dreams is supposed to represent happiness in real life. So have I never been happy before? It is very blissful, though; the sky when I fly is always deserted, and a purple blue, and I can taste the clouds and feel the coldness of them as I breathe in through my throat. I can see clouds pass under me, and the sky is cooler above, but it is soft. Yet I get the general feeling that this flying was less happiness and it was more so a special gift and an occult power.
Today, one of my friends was there, randomly, on my driveway. She was watching me fly around, and she kept asking my questions about it, or to go over and watch something with my hovering powers, or even if I thought there was something special about me if I could fly like that.
Then I got into her car, and we drove around someplace, along a lakeshore, looking for something (probably church). The lakeshore was familiar; not Birch Lake but someplace I've been before. She kept driving over in the wrong lane of the road, and I asked her humorously if she thought we were in England. I didn't realize until after I woke up that I was actually on the driver's side of the car (though she was driving) and therefore she probably should have been on that side of the road.
Then we were in my old middle school, and I was with my friend again, and we needed to get some lunch (for some reason I think she was the only person who knew of my flying thing as of yet and she and I were hanging out until we figured it out). I had only $.80 in my lunch account, as I did at the end of the year or whatever, and I couldn't buy anything, and the lady refused to give me even a fraction of something for that much. She was rather mean. Then for some reason I found money and was able to buy lunch.
I was really giddy in the school, too, and it looked so different. The most notable part, though, was that the school contained this aura that I remember only from my first time there . . . coldness and unfamiliarity.
I told Mom about this and she spouted something about how I'm excited about leaving for college (next year) and going back to my old schools was a glimpse back into my past. If anything, it represented the college, going to it . . . because my recollection of it was that of the unfamiliar first time.
I suddenly have this ability in my dreams where I can jump very high and just hover, and then float, and whisk myself around in the air as if I were just swimming underwater. I've NEVER been able to fly before in dreams. Now, suddenly, I'm completely boundless. It always starts on my driveway, too. I jump up, and I just stay in midair . . . and as time goes on, I can make myself go higher and higher, and side to side, anywhere I want-- rather slowly, but still. I'm always so afraid, within the dream, that I will ground myself and lose this ability, but I never do. I can come back down and walk on land, but I can always pop back on up when I want to.
Flying in dreams is supposed to represent happiness in real life. So have I never been happy before? It is very blissful, though; the sky when I fly is always deserted, and a purple blue, and I can taste the clouds and feel the coldness of them as I breathe in through my throat. I can see clouds pass under me, and the sky is cooler above, but it is soft. Yet I get the general feeling that this flying was less happiness and it was more so a special gift and an occult power.
Today, one of my friends was there, randomly, on my driveway. She was watching me fly around, and she kept asking my questions about it, or to go over and watch something with my hovering powers, or even if I thought there was something special about me if I could fly like that.
Then I got into her car, and we drove around someplace, along a lakeshore, looking for something (probably church). The lakeshore was familiar; not Birch Lake but someplace I've been before. She kept driving over in the wrong lane of the road, and I asked her humorously if she thought we were in England. I didn't realize until after I woke up that I was actually on the driver's side of the car (though she was driving) and therefore she probably should have been on that side of the road.
Then we were in my old middle school, and I was with my friend again, and we needed to get some lunch (for some reason I think she was the only person who knew of my flying thing as of yet and she and I were hanging out until we figured it out). I had only $.80 in my lunch account, as I did at the end of the year or whatever, and I couldn't buy anything, and the lady refused to give me even a fraction of something for that much. She was rather mean. Then for some reason I found money and was able to buy lunch.
I was really giddy in the school, too, and it looked so different. The most notable part, though, was that the school contained this aura that I remember only from my first time there . . . coldness and unfamiliarity.
I told Mom about this and she spouted something about how I'm excited about leaving for college (next year) and going back to my old schools was a glimpse back into my past. If anything, it represented the college, going to it . . . because my recollection of it was that of the unfamiliar first time.
