Dreams are always fucked up like this, only we don’t remember most of it. Have you ever nearly ended a day when suddenly you catch a glimpse of something that triggers a memory of a dream you had the night before? I have. It can be a silly little thing, like the time I was standing outside at work and seen a girl strike a lighter. I suddenly had an entire story open up in my memory, and fortunately it was pleasant.
Have you ever woke up in complete horror and knew you had a nightmare, but you didn’t know what it was? It had to be really, really bad, you just can’t remember it.
It’s something to do with being in a coma, probably the duration or that the supply of chemicals that keep us asleep are exhausted. Take that with a grain of salt. I’m just an idiot. I don’t even remotely know.
I believe that dreams that I don’t remember directly contribute to my daily moods. If I wake up feeling wonderful, I must have had decent dreams. If I wake up angry, I must have had nightmares. This is consistent when I remember them.
Those little glimpses of memory. It’s even worse than remembering the dream when I wake up, because in the latter scenario, I at least know for sure it’s a dream. Sometimes, for the little glimpses of memory, I don’t know if they are from the reality or from a dream. They do get very vivid occasionally.