I woke up the call of “Breakfast!” this morning. The trap door to our jail cell pod slammed open, and all the men rushed toward the cell block door. I thought it was super strange what was happening, and that’s when I realized it was one of those “free dreams” that was happening to me.
Once I ate breakfast, and started to realize how much I hated “those dreams” I started realizing what was happening to me. I had awoken from a dream of being in freedom, to realizing I was now waking up to the cold reality of being in jail.
In the dream I was smoking a berry flavored cigarette, which was sort of weird, because I wasn’t much of a cigarette smoker, but I was a substance abuser, so it all felt like normal. In the dream, I had bummed the berry cigarette from a group of pretty young girls who were sitting at a picnic table near me. They said that they would give me this berry cigarette if I could make them smile. I walked over them with all of the charisma that I could, sat down between their beautiful little bodies, and lit up the smoke with only one match and began to make them all smile at once as the sat around me.
That’s when I heard the guard yell, “BREAKFAST!” and I began to wake up into this nightmare reality of jail!
Now that I’ve had my first “Free” dreams, I am sure I will have “Jail” dreams when I finally get out of this place. I realize now, that I may not entirely be mentally free from this place even when I do finally get out of here. I will always be reminded of my past in here. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s what will keep me from coming back here ever again.
I am now realizing that we all create our own realities by the thoughts we choose to think. At times my mind wanders from these four walls and locked doors, and even though I am locked up in this cage, my mind can actually think it’s free in its dreams and day dreams. I watch as my mind wanders around into the wild uninhabited realm of it’s own imagination and creation, and I can find myself in pretty cool places even though my physical bodie is stuck inside of this hell.
I consist of my physical body, but I can be elsewhere in the powerful realms of my mind. My fantasies are intertwined with my goals, and my imagination can create a fictional realm that’s almost as real as the reality I can touch.
Daydreaming, even in jail, is like reading a fantastically engrossing book. You’re not in the book, but you are at the same time. It’s like daydreaming about freedom when you’re locked away. You’re not there, but you are.
Even though I am in jail, my mind is off battling the good and evil forces within the story I am telling myself that I am living.
A good quiet moment involving thoughtful imagination can bring a person around the world and produce an unthinkable amount of inspiration.
Are these only imaginations, or have I actually created a life beyond my own, where dreams and ideas actually exist and live on their own totally apart from me? I do not know. But it is interesting to think about while I am here in this jail cell for this period of time.