Do you believe dreams have meaning?
But it’s not necessarily in the prophetic sense. My take on it is, we are all exposed to many of the same symbols. The ocean and the color blue often mean serenity. Green can mean money or jealousy. These symbols are part of our daily life and can be found woven in our favorite pieces of literature.
It would make sense (right?) for the brain to take these same symbols and mold them like Play-Doh while we sleep in order to give them form and function.
The only reason I’m here, typing this post like some sort of existentialist, is because I had a dream last night I can’t figure out, but I feel like it was supposed to be easy to decipher.
The gist of it was—I was somehow chosen, out of a large group of tryouts, to play the role of “Cinderella” in a play. I’d, apparently, tried out because I hadn’t expected to be chosen because of my weight, my infallible shyness, and my horrible memory. Yet, no matter how much I brought this up, no one seemed to believe me. They felt like I was a perfect fit for the role.
The majority of the dream was me having several panic attacks, from major to minor, when I thought about playing the role because I was pretty sure I was going to suck. And, apparently, the play was a big deal.
Now, you see what I mean when I say there’s an obvious message there. Either that or my brain just screamed, “INSECURITIES, I CHOOSE YOU!” Pokemon-style and just tossed everything in a pot and scrambled.