On The Infiltration of My Subconscious


You managed to sneak into my dreams again. I think you have some form of mind-control power or something. Over me or over a lot of people in general, I’m not sure. It was kind of a weird dream, set in a weird mall-like place. I couldn’t comprehend what happened, but I think something happened that pinned the blame on me again. I remember something about stem cell treatment or some kind of medical innovation. Weird, eh?

I get weird dreams a lot. Nightmarish ones and confusing ones. Dreams about zombies and all kinds of weird things so they’re nothing new. Recently, though, you started appearing in them more frequently and I’m not sure why.

What do you dream of? I wonder if you ever dream of me. I wonder if anyone ever dreams of me. Maybe strangers do. After all, there’s this article I saw that says when someone sees your face, you start appearing in their dreams even if you’re just a random by-stander. I read that every face in your dreams was someone you’ve seen at least once— someone you’ve passed by on the street, maybe, or that barista from the Starbucks near your school. The possibilities are endless.

Dreams are fragile things. They dissipate easily. I want to preserve as much of them as possible because they’re like small pieces of our subconscious, something we cannot touch, so maybe recording them and analyzing them would help make me understand myself more. (Fragile is a nice word.)

I hope to see you in my dreams again and I’m hoping a bit that you also see me in yours.

I love you, okay?

Forever dreaming,



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