Moment of Soi-meme

I've never had a straight forward dream. No beginning, middle, end. No real plot or climax, no expository, nothing. It just comes and goes, passing through my unconsciousness. And if dreams do pass through, why do they come again? And why do some repeat?

They say our mind is the beholder of the dream.

After laying in bed for the excessive amount of hours during sleep, how do we know that the dream we just had wasn't true? Theirs supposedly a dead hour of the night, where nothing moves, nothing breathes, no engines turn, no parties beat, no music, no love, no snow, wind, rain, only dead stillness, silence, seelen. Who says during this hour we're not the beholder of our own dream? Then again, who's awake to say otherwise?

From a sleep, typically you say "the moment I woke up", but I have two. The first is instant; either the feeling of the dream still lingering like a good aftertaste, or a bad drink you try to wash down with another. The second moment; the questions, the wondering, the why, the how, the lying there staring at my ceiling trying to answer my pondering, but finding my mind blank from the dream, taking everything I had. The dream interrupting my thoughts every next hour, minute, every resemblance of an event or person from, resumes the story in my mind and the need of insight.

Ask a person on the street, and they'll answer "yes" I love, enjoy, await for dreams. But for me, although I do enjoy them during, what about after? Why would I say I love something if the full of it isn't lovable? Isn't something I wish for, or can't wait to have again; but they still return. I don't dislike dreams, but I don't like them all the same. Dreams take you to a place all your own, and give you your wildest desires and needs, then right as you fall for it, believe in it, trust it-it's taken away, and revealed as contrary-again. Untrue, false, hidden, invisible, dead, mendacious, sham, a lie. Albeit...

Dream [dreem] -noun: An aspiration; goal; aim. Why do we say we love to dream when it's something we can't reach.

Who are we in our dreams? It's not us. We, ourselves, our bodies and mind, are not there. So who is it? I do things in my dreams I would never do. I do things I wish I would have. I ask myself, why didn't I go for it? It's a dream, nothing bad can effect the real me, so why did I hold back? Who is this person making these decisions for me? Why aren't I more like them? Are we playing this character or directing them?

...theirs daydreams, why not daymares? Or is that called realism.