Friday, August 31, 2007

In my travels and experiences I must sleep, and during those hours of precious slumber, things still happen. While most of these things are not worthy of writing about, some of these activities have no more importance than to be discussed. I am, of course, talking about dreams.

Are you the type to remember dreams? I am. I love it. While most dreams are of average quality, there are quite a few that are of a much higher caliber. Last night, for example, I dreamed about riding a motorcycle. This may not seem like much, but it really was; at the time, at least.

In some grand adventure I can't even describe or even remember fully, I was in a small town where ghosts may congregate and the living are sparse. As it turns out, I am escaping from this place of evil and what do I do? Ride out on the open rode on a nice big Harley. There may have been explosions chasing me in the distance, but I couldn't stop looking at the smooth pavement as it sped by below me at an exaggerated speed.

It was tranquil. It was free. The feeling of the wind blowing by my face and through my fingers was exhilerating. Not often is this a feeling in my dreams, which is probably why it's so special right now. There was peace on the motorcycle, and in the dream, I seemed to realize and respect why bikers do what they do: for the love of the open road.

At this point I awoke from the dream and a smile crept across my face as I snuggled the blankets closer with fond memories of the open road. I attempted to fall back into the dream but unfortunately it just wasn't the same. Instead of the open road, I was crashing: falling sideways at an unbearable speed that would surely be my demise. As it may have been, the perspective shifted and I was no longer on the bike but instead watching is slide under a transport, only to be crushed along with my yearning for the open road.

As it turns out I am completely fine and standing on the side of the road, but depression hits. Was it the bike? The loss of the open road? The change in course of the dream? In any event, I had had enough and I awoke from my slumber in anticipation of the looming alarm.

1 comment:

Cale Morsen said...

I usually don't remember my dreams and when I do they're about zombies. Which is really weird because if I was a hardcore creature of darkness I would be a werewolf. Maybe zombies because we are all already zombies, walking around no purpose in life. Sound depressing? Not necessarily. If we are history's middle children (thank you Tyler Durden) then we have no responsibilities. And I'm lazy so it all works out.