I was a girl, rushing through hallways, opening doors. Doors to rooms I'd never seen before, or at least I felt like I didn't recognise them.
Rushing and spinning and feeling lost, anxious, alone?
I open my eyes.
These are the doors to the rooms in my mind, where my problems and my worries are stored. I keep them there, sometimes trying to figure them out, sometimes to remind me of what I've been through, and sometimes, sometimes because I can't get rid of them.
It seems the more life I live, the more these worries stack up in ever-accumulating 'rooms'.
I want to finish the dream, want to know what the ending is. I want to be able to lock all the doors and forget about those rooms - or, hah! Perhaps I could knock them through into one big room and enjoy that feeling of space, space to breathe?
But I guess that's not what life is all about...
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@qualified2dream We'll probably find it's some kind of 'average' dream already noted by psychologists in a dream book somewhere....!
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