The journey toward sleeping: My repeated dreams.

The dimension toward the reality and fake sceneries, the quality of the works from the mind that minted some expectations over truth and dreams. Some people say that dreams are a sign, others explain that dreams are the way to communicate with someone that might tell you what will be in the future. Night dreams are amazing but not every time.

For over a century, most of the elders liked to dream. They said that ancestors are passing dreams so that they will know what will happen in the future, some use dreams as predictions and some really had the talent to talk with anything in just resting and diving in the other dimensions.

Religious belief, also mentioned in a lot of stories about dreaming. From the dream of Joseph that the Virgin Mary will have her son that was Jesus, from the dreams of the Pharaoh that threaten him about the three horses that were beautiful and strong turn to pale unto ashes. The books say that dreams are the connections between the supernatural world and the real world.

Others have testified that dead people are talking to them in their dreams, someone got a mysterious sign and spot where they test and happened to be the spot where they buried the dead, some had the dream that the lost family member says she or he had precious stone or money somewhere and you need to look upon it.

All are the product of minds.

Do you know that creative people mostly want dreams? Writers and authors want dreams of something that will transform into an idea and new possibilities. Well, I might be considered creative then because I dream most of the time, and some are the backyard of the past.

I had these repeated dreams ever since I was a child. It might be a loss of a memory or something. I am in a garden full of bougainvillaea blossoming plants, the scenery was considered familiar. I was in that place before but different from what I dreamed of. Then the old woman smiled at me while watering the plants. There was no talking just I watched her doing what she loved to do, then it's stop.

I thought it was just a normal dream or something, but it doesn’t drop until now there is a night that I was in that place, either I am alone or with that old lady.

I knew that spot and place, that’s my grandparent's house and the garden that I saw was the backyard. I can't say that it was a loss of memories of childhood. My grandmother on my father's side was bedridden when I was born, she couldn't hold or lift me.

And later I know, it is real that the garden was full of bougainvillaea when she could still do something like gardening plants. Well maybe I think that she always tells that story to me then my mind was filled with it.

When I was young I loved to sit beside her, she didn't have someone to talk to during the afternoon. She was alone so I made sure I just stayed by her side. Might be when I was with her she told me those stories over and over so my child mind got into it until now my mind repeatedly showed those dreams.

Either way, those dreams really give me a good rest. No hurt or tragedy and horror, just so relaxed that made me sleep well.

Somehow I also believed in spirits, might be the spirit of Grandmother was watching me every time I dreamed that it worked. She passed away and now might be the one now sitting with me when I am alone.

I loved those dreams that repeated in my head.

I also observed that it always happens or triggers when I am really upset about something or having a hard time doing something.

I never mentioned any of my dreams to my mother, why? She will just immediately talk with the wetting lady and ask for the numbers corresponding to the dreams I got. I wanted her to stop doing that but every time I said so, she didn't do it.

Dreams might be a sign or something, a bridge to reality over the other world, the past and supernaturals being, whatever you are relieved with.

There was a song that I really loved the meaning of, it’s the “Green green grass of home”. Where he dreams of things that were pictured in his mind when he was still young, dreams made him miss things and remember the imperfections still the nostalgia in his mind. But when he wakes up it's all just a dream, an extension of something from the past and what his heart wanted to be.

We are different from what we dreamed and wanted to dream about. Somehow there was a time that we had nothing in our dreams, some it’s a tragedy longing for something. Anything that was made by the mind, anything that has a fantasy that somewhere we might think so deeply so much when we are woken up.

Anything but dreams is the works from our minds that benefit us. Thanks to @ExpertWritter her previous work that gives me the idea for today and for renewing her sponsorship. Thank you for reading…