On dreams

I had a dream once where I was able to disassemble my own body parts and rearrange whatever limb would go where like a mister potato head. I'd pull out my head and turn it upside down and stick it back in in place of my left arm, facing the back. Suddenly the world made sense. But then I had a heart attack and the pain didn't shoot down my left arm as it should, instead it hit my head, causing it to explode. I woke up and lived days following it without remembering a part of the dream until one day the memory of the dream shot up my brain precisely the way the blood circulation loss hit my dream head.

I once had another dream where a beautiful woman stood in the middle of an empty city square. She had a thin veil covering her face. A man walked slowly towards her, lifted her veil and kissed her on the mouth. She eventually withered into a soft pile of bones under his feet.

Another, a recurring dream, placed me at the tender age of 6 or 7 and my mother left us. Dad sat at the back of the house, not responding to anything we say. I called out to mum who picked up her pace the further away she was from the door. I screamed and cried for her not to leave and she turns to me, pausing and looked at me with cold and foreign eyes, like she didn't know or cared who I was and at that moment, nor I her. Then she turned back around and walked off. Usually I wake up before she disappears into the corner, short of breath and unable to fall back to sleep until morning breaks, but there are also times when I would find myself sitting by the door for the longest time and it would feel like the things in our front yard would morph into taunting monsters.