Sometimes my dreams are really weird. Sometimes, as in most of the times when I remember my dreams when I wake up. Sometimes there are longer periods without remembering dreams, other times there are weeks of vivid dreams.
One of my reoccurring themes in the dreams has always been travel. Planes, trains, buses… I never drive in my dreams. Not that I really drive in the real life either. But it’s odd. I might have been a pilot in some dreams, and I’ve flown with my own hands (or just levitated in the air?) years ago. Years ago my dreams had more visual elements; now they are getting blurry. This is probably a bit more difficult to explain to someone who has never had much fluctuation in their sight. When everything turns blurry, you forget how things look like… and how the places you walk around every day look like.
I often recognize the places where I’m supposed to be but have no clue how. They don’t look like what I remember. Or what I know them to be like, from the paths and locations or physical features. I guess it’s just like knowing in the real life; if you are in a city you usually know that you are in X and not in Y or Z. Last night in a dream I was in Milan. Didn’t exactly want to be there, and tried to avoid running to some people. I looked at the sky, and the blue parts of the sky faded to gray to darkness. Then I knew it was daytime but have no clue what it looked like. The way daytime feels different with all your senses from nighttime. I had slept in the dream for many hours, with the uncomfortable feeling of having been very vulnerable in public. Then like how the locations sometimes work in the dreams, I was close to a thousand miles away, in a local bus. In a place where I’d lived as a small child. A main street where the buses would travel was still there, but there was some new weird giant building (that I saw the size and not even shape of) that was there back then.