When I was a child I was taught to track my dreams. I would wake up and immediately let my family know what I had dreamt of. My mom believed in the power of dreams. Just a week ago, I came across an old dream journal of when I was in transition, couch surfing, hoping to one day have a place of my own.
I read through that journal in a wistful state of mind. I had nightmares, incoherent dreams and heroic dreams. In all, I was always aiming for a better world and trying to find my footing in such a better world. I dreamt that I was the key to bringing about good and dismantling evil. What a wild ride of dreams.
In my travels across the globe, I have come across other people’s dreams.
They often scrawl them across a wall leaving their name and the date of that dream behind.
There is no better place, in a way, than the Berlin Wall, to read such dreams.
Often, our dreams are very basic: Just to be remembered and have left a trail of our selves behind or to have been there when the moment counted. What ever that moment may be.
To dream is to live
I live for a better place
My name sings today
Categories: photography, poetry, Travel
Such a wonderful post.
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Thank you. Happy monday
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thank you. hope you are having a lovely weekend
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Nice. Have wandered away from my dreams fir a while now.
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go and catch back up with your dreams 🙂 hope you are having a great weekend
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Great post! I believe in the power or meaning of dreams.
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Thanks. I truly think there is something to dreams
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Amazing really
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