Dreams

Dreams (And What's Left)

You see, the thing about dreams, is that they seem to make less and less sense the longer you're awake. The details, that may once have somewhat tied the whole thing together, slip from your mind until all you're left with is "some strange dream you had". When you first wake up - so long as you've woken yourself up and your mind and musings have not been intruded upon by an outside source - you are so engrossed in the story that your mind invented, that you can almost continue the line of thought. Then, as you look back on your dream in an attempt to experience it again, for whatever purpose that might serve - be it clarity, an explanation, to understand what went on, or in order to perhaps write it down - details fall away, more each time you look, until the only things left are sensations, ideas, and the conclusion, along with every glaring outlier to the supposed story line. All you're left with is this strange thing your brain did and no real world to build off of in future. 

I just had a dream like this, and all I'm left with is this: 

A colorful - yet very purple - wedding dress, a cliff set just above the clouds during sunset, a dark forest filled with glowing things and life and color - enchanted, maybe, -  a large field of every wildflower - neon and pastel, blue and pink, poppies and lilies, -  a peacock dress with all my favorite blues and greens and greenish-blues, a magical hollow that my mind tied to Narnia, the distinct impression of Narnia, the wedding of George Weasley to Cameron Fey, the almost wedding of Draco Malfoy to the same Cameron Fey, all the traditions of this invented world that come with weddings including jumping and drifting from the cloud-shrouded cliff into the colorful forest below, my mother's approval of only the second and successful wedding, and also, did I mention, I was Cameron Fey and I wore the purple dress.

I was also left with the thought that I'd had this dream before, but several of the details must have been off, because my love of the Weasley twins was not founded until after my 13th birthday, also the date I started this account, and fanfictions where Draco is/becomes good thus likeable were not viewed by me until the first semester of this previous school year. Also, I was not aware that purple was really the only color that truly matched my face and hair color until last winter. Therefore, these details and possibly more could not have been the same as the previous dream, yet the whole experience and following lines of thinking and imagination have been entirely shrouded in a strong sense of déjà vu. This is a feeling I've only ever truly felt after having the same dream twice.

Also, perhaps I've been watching the Netflix series, Sherlock much too much.

You know, just a thought.