After the completion (well, half of it anyway) of my Commonplace book, I have thus been thinking about what I am going to fill the second part with. I was thinking about things and came to the sudden realization that I always found sleeping and dreaming fascinating- that we daily, view the thoughts of our head. Our thoughts become visual and can be experienced. Though if you’re like me, you wont remember your dreams 99% of the time. C’est la vie, I suppose. Anyways, I had the idea of keeping a notebook (oddly enough, this turned out to be my Philosophy notebook) by my bed every night and writing my current thoughts in it if I were to ever wake up while I was sleeping. I want to read what I was thinking at the time- I love how much depth our minds have; I want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes; I want to know what I think subconsciously. I want to know where the division between my clear thoughts and my abstract thoughts is. I’m hoping in doing this, I’ll get to know more about how I feel- something that I’ve had trouble with. Lately, I’ve been going to bed at late hours and haven’t been waking up in the middle of the night like I usually do. Which stands to reason then that the whole notebook idea wasn’t working, with the exception of last night however. Last night, I had the falling dream: I saw myself falling in a blank area. The weird part to me was that I, for once in my life, actually saw a dream that I was having at the time. However, it didn’t feel like I was seeing it- it felt like I was actually falling; that I was dreaming about an out of body experience while I felt it at the same time. While this was happening, I heard myself snore- which was a weird experience in itself: my snores narrating my descent downward. For some reason, I began to get quite scared. As a result, I snorted really loudly in an attempt to wake myself up. It worked, and I wrote down how I felt at the time- the time being at 2:40 in the morning. After writing it, I went back to bed. When I came home from Sean’s house today, I went into my room and read what I wrote (which came out like a poem, oddly enough), which was the following:

“I felt myself falling I snored once, and could hear myself breathing- snorting almost like a pig.”

I think this poem is my favorite out of all of the ones I have written.