As a kid, I always used to dream I was Peter Pan...

[dmawson314]

I had a dream last night. I, like some of my friends, had discovered dormant powers within ourselves. They had been hidden within the entire human race, and were simply waiting to be tapped. Flight and telekinesis were the most common, but flight was difficult to use. A certain amount of oomf was needed, and we were just beginning to become accustomed to them. Yet this dream was too real. I can remember the feeling of gathering air around me, of bending my knees and pushing off from the sidewalk pavement to burst into the sky, a thrill running through my body as I was lifted easily above everything, free of all gravitational constraints, of lumbering carbon-based flesh. The act of flying was like inhaling a deep breath of fresh air, as if I had finally stretched beyond what biology and society had demanded of me, and soared now. Friends (friends seldom appear in my dreams as recognizable individuals, and for some reason all my dream-friends are people that I am aware I have never met before, whose faces I do not even remember) who had found these powers were still training up and keeping it a secret, but we all thrilled in the new discovery. I landed in the blacktop backlot of a cement house in a graffiti-ed district, as if I were a superhero making house calls, and opened the door to a babysitting job for a kid who used to live down the street from me. He greeted me happily, and in the one-room one-bathroom flat-roofed house, we sat in the living room on ratty old couches, watching the sun slice in through the horizontal blinds on the windows that sporadically hung there, pieces falling off and twisted. He watched television that I switched on with my mind, which brought on an explanation of these dormant human powers. When he asked me for a demonstration, I wondered when my friends were going to arrive, and tried to levitate, waiting for that bursting feeling of happiness I got from flight. None came, and I kept wondering how my friends were doing, and how I needed to practice and achieve mastery of this ability again, desperately. A group of acquaintances (again, dream-acquaintances I knew I'd never met before, but for purposes of the dream, were my acquaintances) came in through the bathroom door, chattering about other people and suddenly I was on the IM field walking behind them, and three girls who were sitting on a bed having a slumber party in Stanford stuck their heads out the open window and watched, giggling. They all looked like watercolor washed ink drawings, squiggling and vibrating in their mindless amusement. And I couldn't fly. It wouldn't come to me; I could remember what it felt like, and knew what I could do, but somehow I couldn't release the power, the potential inside. I kept thinking again about my friends, and if they were having the same problems, and I tried again and again, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself to be free from gravity, but I couldn't do it. And then I woke up.

Perhaps this dream means I am subconsciously concerned with the astronomical achievements I may possibly be pursuing, but at the expense of my social life. Or vice versa.

In other news, my iPod is coming tomorrow. Wahoo!!!

The flying was really so wonderful.