I work up this morning feeling a tad uncertain of how to face the day. Could possibly have been because of having tossed and turned the whole night trying to swot away those bloody, vampire mosquitoes that seemed to pop out of nowhere in the rainy season. Or possibly 'cause this uncertain feeling was probably the result of the dream I had of myself running through this narrow tunnel with a brightly burning fire at the end (thats it... no more late-night Quake 3 sessions).
Isn't it sometimes quite amusing how the mind and the subconscious churn out these weird yet wonderful stories in our heads when the body is in a state of rest. I've often replayed a few interesting dreams I've had, and marveled at the freakish level of imagination I never believe I could never have. Having read a couple of books that describe how dreams are, in essence, a state that we would like to see ourselves, or how we perceive ourselves to be, with reference to our current state (bleddy stochastic processes course). Some books say dreams can be interpreted.
I believe that, to an extend, it can be.
My reasoning is hence: our mind is constantly aware of its surroundings (that may explain how internal body clocks work).
The fun part is that most dreams are just plain imagination - the creative side in each one of us that churns out those fantastic paradise destinations with the people we are close to doing things we never thought (but probably wished) they would do.
And, as we exercise this creativity in those gravity-defying car chases, Bollywood-hero-styled cricket matches and lustful conversations (to name but a few), there is one aspect we can reflect on as we wake up to reality to start the next day. An appreciation for sanity.