There’s something about dreams that, for whatever reason, I base some of my core emotions. I guess it’s because they come from me, and they are a part of me. I don’t think they tell anything that you don’t already know, but I believe they often confirm feelings that are rooted in the pit of your stomach that you’re sometimes unwilling to admit. It’s as if dreams are projections of yourself that you have to face to come to some sort of truth about your self. Of course they’re not always deep or meaningful, but rather random, and often current thoughts that float together. Sometimes they come from thoughts that spark from other thoughts or things that you’ve seen recently. Sometimes they’re reflections of concerns that you’ve been having.

No matter the real reason they come about, they are part of your consciousness and your unconsciousness. I find they’re sometimes therapeutic, even despite their terrifying approaches.